


The Pilot and the Reporter

by SandstoneSunspear



Series: Supergirl!Mass Effect AU [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Mass Effect!AU, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-09-24 06:19:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandstoneSunspear/pseuds/SandstoneSunspear
Summary: Normandy shuttle pilot LT Vasquez is a widow who never held any illusions about how hard it would be to move on. They just never expected to have to face how much they were stuck in the past. That is, until reporter Erin King was embedded on the Normandy and found themself having to confront both grief and new feelings. They figure that the feelings will be easy to sort out and that the grief will be the real challenge. Unfortunately for them, war has a way of making complicated things easy and easy things extremely complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Erin is nerdsbianhokie and change-the-rule's character. I'm just borrowing her for this fic.

Lieutenant Vasquez was having a bad day. The Reapers had attacked Earth, the Normandy was retreating and to top it all off, Mike ‘Mon-el’ Matthews had just smashed their shuttle to high hell to save Commander Danvers.

“Prepare for emergency jump,” Nia ordered.

Vasquez’s hand were a blur as they worked to punch the coordinates in. They frowned.

“Nia, are you sure about these coordinates?” they asked.

“We have to get out of the Sol System,” she said, “and this is the only way to do it.”

Vasquez couldn’t disagree with that. Still, “These coordinates are for a double jump!” they protested.

The Normandy was at the top of her class within the fleet, but not even she could jump like that. Could she?

“Ms. Nal’s coordinates are correct.” Vasquez jumped at the sound of Brainy’s voice. A second later, the hologram appeared. “The Normandy will make the jump. We cannot delay.”

Vasquez let out a breath. “Alright,” they said. “Just know that if we die in a fiery ball of doom, I’m gonna kill you, Nia.”

“Fair.” More beeping. “Jumping to the Charon Relay in 3, 2, 1!”

The Normandy went silent around them. Vasquez braced themself. They felt their stomach fly up into their throat as the ship froze, then shot across the Sol System. 

-

It seemed to go on forever. Vasquez had flown a number of fighters and shuttles over their ten-year career within the Alliance, but none of those flights could have prepared them for what was happening right now. Most cross-system jumps were rough, even in ships that had the best inertial dampeners credits could buy, but this jump was smooth as could be. 

They let out a breath they hadn’t realised they were holding when the Charon Relay came into view. Their stomach dropped moments later when they saw debris in the distance. It had to be what was left of the Seventh Fleet.

They barely had any time to process what they were seeing before they noticed that the Charon Relay was getting bigger.

“Uhhh Nia,” they said.

Surely she wasn’t thinking of doing what they thought she was going to do. No pilot would be that daring. Or stupid. 

Nia just grinned.

Maybe she was thinking it.

She spoke up, “Brainy?”

“Initiating jump to Citadel Relay,” he said.

Vasquez immediately started sputtering. “Are you out of your mind!” they demanded. “We just got here, we have to slow down—”

Multiple Relay jumps required at least a 30 second deceleration period between each jump. As far as Vasquez could tell, the Normandy hadn’t met that.

“Negative.” Brainy’s hologram appeared next to them, making them yelp. “The current momentum the Normandy possesses will facilitate the emergency jump—”

“And smash us against the Citadel when we get there!” they argued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Nia interrupted. “We’re making the jump. Now.”

Vasquez grit their teeth and braced themself just in time for everything to go silent once again before the Normandy shot through space.

-

Vasquez was up on their feet by the time the Normandy reached the Serpent Nebula. They were doubled over and dry heaving, with a hand braced against the wall leading to the airlock. Experienced pilot they may have been, but a double jump with no downtime was enough to shake anyone’s stomach.

“If you throw up in my cockpit, I’m going to have Brainy space you,” Nia called out from the front.

Anyone except Flight Lieutenant Nia Nal, it would seem.

They heard the door ping. It was the only warning they had to make themself look at least somewhat fit for duty before Commander Danvers walked in. 

“Nia, status report,” she barked.

“Made it to the Serpent Nebula without any issues, Commander,” Nia said.

Commander Danvers nodded. “Great. Radio Citadel control and tell them we need medics as soon as we dock,” she said.

“Understood, Commander,” Nia said.

Commander Danvers turned on her heel and moved to leave. She walked right past Vasquez, only to pause before she fully left the cockpit.

“Nia?”

“Yeah, Commander?”

“You can still call me Alex.” A grin from Commander Danvers. “Just because we’re back in Alliance colours again doesn’t mean you get to go all formal on me.”

Nia laughed. “Roger that...Alex,” she said.

Commander Danvers’ grin widened. She gave Nia quick, two fingered salute then made her way into the Combat Information Center proper.

“...her first name’s Alex?” Vasquez asked once she was gone.

“Yeah.” Nia looked back at them. “Why? What’d you think it was?”

Vasquez shrugged. “Honestly, I thought it was Commander.”

Nia’s laughter filled the cockpit.

-

_ “Officer on deck!” _

Vasquez spun around to face the elevator as they, and everyone else in the cargo bay, snapped to attention following Mon-el’s notification. 

Commander Danvers gave a small half-laugh. “At ease, everyone,” she said. 

A sea of nods as people returned to their regular business. Vasquez relaxed, only to tense right back up when the Commander made a beeline for them. Even though she had just told the entire cargo bay to be at ease, Vasquez snapped back to attention and fired off a crisp salute.

“Lieutenant Vasquez, shuttle pilot,” they introduced themself. “I’ve got news about our supply chains, Commander.”

Commander Danvers returned the salute just as crisply. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant,” she said. She brought her hand down and out for a handshake. “I did say to be at ease, though.”

Vasquez relaxed and shook her hand. “Sorry to jump right in like that, Commander,” they apologised. “There’s just so much to get done that I get caught up in the tasks at hand.”

“They’re always like that!” Mon-el called out from his area in the cargo bay. “You need to chill out, Vas!”

Vasquez glanced over their shoulder. “Oh, so you do care, Mr. Matthews. Or is that the Cerveza talking again?”

Mon-el flipped them off.

They rolled their eyes.

Commander Danvers cleared her throat. “So, what exactly is happening with our supply chains, Lieutenant?” she asked.

Vasquez was immediately back to business. “Alliance supply chains are in chaos thanks to how fast the Reapers hit,” they said, “but the Citadel’s economy is still up and running, which means I can network to Citadel retailers. If you want to grab something from there, all you have to do is use the console.”

Commander Danvers nodded. “I’ll definitely let you know when there’s a new store I need you to network,” she said.

“Sounds good, Commander. I do have to give you a heads up though: it does cost more ordering through the procurement system than if you just bought equipment while on shore,” they said. “It sucks a bit, but it’s because the supplies have to be delivered and I have to offset the cost somehow.”

“That makes sense. I remember having the same problem when the SR-1 was running.” A wistful look appeared on her face. “Except the higher prices were because my requisition officer at the time had to offset the costs of the licenses he needed to get so he could even sell the equipment in the first place. Speaking of which, how are you both my requisition officer _ and _my shuttle pilot?”

The eyebrow she raised had Vasquez rubbing the back of their head sheepishly. 

“I wasn’t originally stationed on the Normandy as a pilot,” they admitted. “There’s not much need for one when the ship’s in dry dock, you know?”

Commander Danvers nodded. “What was your original assignment, then?” she asked.

Vasquez leaned back just a bit and braced their hands against the console behind them. “I was in charge of the retrofit of the cargo hold. I’m quite familiar with the maintenance and operations of the UT-47 Kodiak and the M-44 Hammerhead.”

They watched Commander Danvers’ eyebrows go even higher. “You’re an engineer too?” She sounded stunned.

Vasquez laughed. “I double majored in engineering and business during my undergrad, and went on to get my masters in mechanical engineering,” they said. “I’ve also spent the last ten years or so flying for the Alliance. Earned myself a bit of a reputation because I spend as much time tinkering with my birds as I do flying them.”

Commander Danvers whistled. “Damn. No wonder you took over as shuttle pilot then,” she said. “I remember you up in the cockpit earlier, though. You fly larger ships as well?”

Vasquez shook their head. “Not really, no. Most of the flying I’ve done over the last ten years was with First Fleet, namely the SSV Hawking. Command had me piloting F-61 Tridents,” they said. 

“Fighters? Those are different beasts compared a cruiser.”

Vasquez nodded. “That they are, Commander, and I love them. The Trident practically dances in low atmo. Course, the Normandy handles like a fighter in a pinch, which is pretty amazing, but,” they glanced back at the UT-47A Kodiak. “Great as it is, I think I’ll stick with the shuttles and fighters, especially _ given Mr. Matthew’s love of midair collisions!” _they raised their voice towards the end.

“TO SAVE THE DAY, YOU DICK!”

Vasquez let out a sigh of mock exasperation. “I apologise for him. He usually has manners,” they said.

To their relief, Commander Danvers just laughed. “Sounds like the two of you have been friends for a while,” she said once her laughter died down. 

Vasquez nodded. “Yeah,” they said. “We met a few years back on Fehl Prime. Alliance had us both stationed there at the same time—”

“I didn’t know Fehl Prime had an airbase,” Commander Danvers mused.

“It doesn’t,” Vasquez coughed. “The Alliance had me, ah, running grey market trade relations.”

“So that’s where the business degree came into play.”

Vasquez chuckled, “Yup. Of course, with how things’ve played out over the last few years, my ability to both fly and fix my fighters has been of more value in the long run.”

They enjoyed flying more too. Grey market procurement had its thrills, but nothing compared to flying a Trident or even a shuttle like the Kodiak.

“Since we’re on the topic of fighters,” Commander Danvers started, “you mind telling me where the M-44 Hammerhead went?”

Vasquez couldn’t stop the small groan that left their lips. “It was sent back to the labs for its own series of retrofits.” 

“What? Why?”

They pinched the bridge of their nose. “To afford mobility with such a small eezo core, it looks like the original design sacrificed armour plating,” they said. “Unfortunately, the one that Cerberus had on the Normandy didn’t really fix that issue,” the scoff the Commander let out told them that she knew that first hand, “so the lab engineers were trying to fix it themselves. Not that it matters now, I guess. After the Reaper invasion, that lab and the Hammerhead are probably under a ton of rubble now.”

Which was probably a good thing, if you asked them. As much as they liked the Hammerhead, as a pilot they knew the ship was a death trap worse than the Kodiak. While the Kodiak handled like a brick and lacked any real weapons of its own, it could at least take a few hits before it went down. The Hammerhead on the other hand? Not so much.

“Damn, that’s a real shame. I liked that ship. Bitch to fly, but it had a great gun.” Commander Danvers folded her arms and leaned back just a bit. “So, you have any other information for me, Lieutenant?”

Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

The Commander shrugged. “Family, home of record, things like that,” she said.

“This twenty questions now, Commander?” they asked.

“I’ve been in the brig for six months with no access to crew records,” she said. “Figured I’d get to know my crew in person, instead of having Brainy just give me the files now.”

Vasquez blinked at Commander Danvers’ response. Out of everything she had said, it was that that made her seem less like some mythical marine and more like a normal person, albeit one who just happened to be the first human Spectre and Hero of the Citadel. 

“I guess that’s fair,” they said slowly. “I, uh, I’m an only child. My family’s originally from Vancouver, but parents have been dead for years now, so no family left on Earth, or anywhere else for that matter.”

Their throat suddenly felt drier than Fehl Prime in the middle of summer. “I, I had a wife, back when I was stationed at Ferris Fields, but uh,” they swallowed, “the Collectors took out the whole colony. I’d, I’d rather not talk about it.”

Vasquez clenched their fist reflexively as they got the words out. They did their best to focus on the sensation of their nails digging into the palm of their hand rather than the lump rising in their throat. They wouldn’t cry, couldn’t cry. Not now, especially not in front of Commander Alex Danvers herself. 

“Noted.” There was a strange note in her voice, almost like guilt. It made Vasquez’s brow furrow. Why on earth would the Commander feel guilty? “Well, thanks for the information, Vasquez. Keep up the hard work, but for the love of god, don’t kill yourself.”

Vasquez nodded. “Aye, aye, ma’am,” they said.

“Call me Alex.” Vasquez blinked. “Ma’am…that’s not really my schtick. Makes me think that my mother’s on board.”

“Understood.”

Alex tipped her head. “I’ll see you around the ship then, Vasquez,” she said. She flicked a glance towards where Mon-el was. To Vasquez, it almost looked like she had more to say, but ultimately decided against it.

Vasquez watched her leave. They settled more of their weight on the console behind them and exhaled harshly. They heard boots clomping across the cargo bay deck.

“You alright, Vas?” Mon-el’s voice was quiet, no teasing or playful note to it this time.

Vasquez flexed their hand. “I’m fine, Mon-el.” They took another breath. “I’m fine.”

They didn’t know who they were trying to convince: Mon-el, or themself. 

“If you say so.” A beat. “You know, I’ve got a pack of Cerveza if you—”

Vasquez shook their head. “No, it’s fine, honest.” They glanced over their shoulder at him. “I’m just gonna finish up setting up these supply chains, then probably work on the Kodiak. Someone’s gotta fix the damage you did, after all.”

They ended their statement with a small grin, but all it did was make Mon-el’s frown deepen. 

He poked them hard in the shoulder. “You heard the Commander, don’t go killing yourself, Vas,” he said.

Vasquez rolled their eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it’s like I said, I’m fine, it’s fine, everything’s _ fine _,” they said.

Mon-el held his hands up. “Alright, alright,” he conceded. He took a few steps back from the console to give them space, something Vasquez was thankful for. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thanks.”

-

Vasquez pulled themself up into the Kodiak and settled in for the night. Ever since they had been assigned to the Normandy retrofit team, it had become their go-to place to sleep. It was comfortable, quiet, roomy, and, most important of all, kept their mind focused on work so that it couldn’t drift off towards their memory of Ferris Fields.

At least, that’s what it did most nights. 

Tonight looked to be an exception, because their mind was a buzz with everything but work. All they could think about was their wife and the Collector attack that had taken her from them. 

Vasquez absently pulled up their vidcall archive on their omni-tool. Their wife’s smiling face shone back at them in the darkness of the Kodiak’s cabin. Their finger hovered over the play button for a few moments, before they gave into the temptation to press it. They closed their eyes as her voice washed over them. 

_ “Hey, Vas, it’s been a while. Okay, so it’s been three days.” _ A heavy sigh. _ “You’d think that after all this time, I’d be used to you going out on deployment, but I’m still not used to it. I miss you. I keep waking up and expecting you to be there next to me…” _

Tears started to roll down Vasquez’s cheeks. 

_ “I love you, Vasquez. Talk to you soon.” _The sound of a kiss. 

Vasquez curled into themself and pressed a hand over their mouth to muffle their sobs as they cried. 


	2. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m perfectly fine with the way things are.”
> 
> “Are you really, though?” 
> 
> “I’m fine,” Vasquez lied through gritted teeth. 
> 
> One day, those words would be the truth, but that day was not today.

Palaven was on fire.

Vasquez pulled up the holographic windows on the Kodiak and almost immediately, they wished they hadn’t. It was like watching Earth fall all over again. Just like the human fleet had done back on Earth, the Turian fleet was giving it everything they had in their home system.

“Oh no,” they heard Maggie say from behind them, “no, Palaven.”

Vasquez could practically hear Alex’s teeth grinding as she grit out, “We’ve got an old friend there.”

The Kodiak shook as another explosion hit the air. They heard Mon-el hiss. 

“Holy fuck, they’re getting decimated out there!” he said.

“Strongest military in the galaxy and the Reapers are tearing through it like tissue paper,” Alex said.

“Was it like this on Earth?” Maggie asked.

“It was worse,” Vasquez said from their position up front. “The Turians had time to react. We didn’t.”

In hindsight, the fact that the Alliance Fleet had been able to react at all was an amazing feat in and of itself given that the Reapers had first smashed through the Arcturus Relay.

“I’m so sorry,” Maggie said.

“Yeah,” Alex whispered.

The shuttle fell silent, save for the occasional aerial explosion that echoed outside the craft. Vasquez kept their eyes on the battlefield, scanning for the Turian encampment they were to be dropping Alex and her team off at. When they found it, they swore.

“Commander,” they called over their shoulder, “the LZ’s getting swarmed!”

“Fuck!” they heard Alex swear behind them. “Open the hatch!”

“Roger that!”

Vasquez opened the hatch. The shuttle shook again, but for a different reason this time as Alex and Mon-el unleashed on the Reaper forces. They did their best to keep the Kodiak steady while they brought it around. Not for the first time did they wish that the shuttle had a weapons system of her own.

“Light them up!” Alex shouted, before vanishing in a streak of blue.

The sound of a biotic explosion hit the air half a second later.

Vasquez landed the shuttle, then grabbed their own rifle. They moved to the hatch and opened fire right alongside Mon-el. 

“Shit, Alex, husk!” Mon-el shouted.

Vasquez cut it down before the Vanguard could react. 

“Damn, thanks, Vasquez!” she yelled.

Vasquez tipped their head even though she couldn’t see it. “Anytime,” they said, before quickly firing off another volley and taking out three more husks.

Mon-el whistled. “Damn, Vas, nice shooting,” he said.

“Comes with being a Marine, Mr. Matthews,” they drawled, still shooting down husk after husk.

The husks seemed to keep coming up. For every one that Alex and her team knocked out, another five appeared to climb up the cliff.

Finally, a blue Nova enveloped the landing zone courtesy of Alex just as one of the Turian soldiers shouted, “Clear!”

“Alright, move out!” Alex ordered. “Vasquez-”

Vasquez raised their rifle. “I’ll be here, Commander,” they said. “I’ll back up this area in the meantime.”

Alex nodded. “We shouldn’t be long,” she said.

The screech of a Harvester echoed in the distance as she turned and ran towards Maggie and Mon-el.

Vasquez glanced in the direction of the sound. They hoped she wouldn’t be that long.

-

In some ways, Vasquez was grateful for all the noise husks made. It served as a stark difference to the silence that had plagued Ferris Fields after the Collectors had hit. It kept them focused on the mission and prevented them from falling too much back into their memories of that day. In other ways, though, they could have done without the rather consistent groaning the husks let out. It sounded too much like the agonal breaths they had heard their fellow pilots make over the comms the day the Reapers hit Earth.

Vasquez landed three perfect headshots just as their comm crackled to life.

_ “Vasquez!” _

They quickly tapped their omni-tool and went right back to shooting. “I read you, Alex, what’s up?”

_ “We need a shuttle extraction three clicks from your position _ .  _ We have the Primarch.” _

Vasquez queued up their omni-tool to let loose an incineration blast. “Roger that, Commander. I’ll be there shortly,” they said.

They looked towards the Turians manning the barricades. “Hey!” they shouted.

Before Vasquez could even ask, one of the Turians shouted, “We got you! We’ll keep it clear so you can take off!”

Vasquez nodded. They fired off two more shots before hopping back into their shuttle. They closed the hatch behind them. They had to take a breath as silence settled over them. 

They counted to three. This wasn’t Ferris Fields. This was Menae, Palaven’s moon. Palaven and its moon were on fire. Both locations still had people, people that were alive and fighting. People like Commander Danvers, who needed an extraction.

Vasquez sat down in the pilot's seat and started the Kodiak up. They pulled up the holographic windows again while typing in the coordinates Alex had sent them. They saw the Turian soldiers unleashing a storm of bullets to clear the area of Reaper forces.

They exhaled. Then, they were gone.

-

By the time they made it back on to the Normandy, Vasquez was numb. 

“You alright, Vas?” Mon-el asked quietly as Alex, Maggie, James Olsen, and the Primarch headed up to the CIC.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” they lied. They grabbed their kit from the shuttle. 

“Vasquez.”

“Mon-el, seriously, leave it alone,” they said. “I already said I’m fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a backlog of reports to get through.”

That was also a lie. Mon-el likely knew it, but to their relief, he was nice enough to not call them out on it. 

“Alright,” he finally said. “If that changes, I’ll just be in the armoury section doing weapons maintenance.”

Vasquez hummed in acknowledgement before moving towards the small alcove behind the shuttles. They let out a breath and sat down, reaching for the bag they had hidden behind the crates. They pulled out an old, worn datapad that had obviously seen better days. They still couldn’t believe that they had grabbed it before the Normandy left Earth. They hesitated for half a beat before deciding to skim through the navscreen until they found what they were looking for: the last recording from Ferris Fields.

Vasquez tried to ignore the growing pit in their stomach as they stared at the screen. It had been ages since they had listened to the recording. It wasn’t that long, only a minute and 47 seconds. That’s how long it had taken for them to lose everything. Less than two minutes. 

Vasquez bit their lip and hit play.

_ “I’m coming to get you, just hold tight!” _

_ “Don’t you dare. They’re everywhere. You’d just get taken too.”  _

_ “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” _

_ “Stay with me, Vas.” _

_ “Vanessa, please, run! Get out of there! You can make it!” _

_ “No, I can’t. But you can. Promise me. I love you, but I know you. Don’t make me an anchor, promise me, Vasquez.” _

_ “No, don’t-” _

Tears rolled down Vasquez’s face and dripped on to the datapad in their hands. They didn’t bother to wipe them away. They couldn’t, not when they had a death grip on said datapad. 

Vasquez only looked up from the datapad in their hands when they noticed a shadow looming over them. It took them a few seconds to recognise that it was Alex standing over them, but when they did, they were on their feet like a shot. 

They quickly wiped their eyes to try and hide the fact that they were crying. “Commander, I’m sorry, didn’t see you there,” they said. “I was just, I was just going over reports.”

Alex didn’t look like she believed them, but there wasn’t any judgement in her eyes either. 

“That recording,” she started.

Vasquez licked their lips and looked back down at the datapad. “It’s, it’s from Ferris Fields,” they admitted, “months ago. I was just…”

“Reminiscing?” Alex guessed.

Vasquez shrugged. “Sure, I guess. It’s the first time in forever that I’ve listened to this,” they said absently. “I have other recordings, mainly vid messages Vanessa made for me and sent me when I was out on deployment, but this is the only one that I have that’s solely of her voice.”

“And Vanessa was…?” 

Vasquez let out a harsh breath. “The wife I mentioned a while back. I lost a lot of friends that day, but I, uh,” their breath caught in their throat, “I lost my wife that day too.”

Saying it out loud made Vasquez feel like the wind had just been knocked out of them. It always did, even though they knew Vanessa had been dead for months. Just because they knew that though, didn’t make it any easier to say out loud.

“I’ve grieved, made my peace,” they said. “I just...” they trailed off.

“You were talking with her when the Collectors hit?” Alex’s voice was gentler than Vasquez ever imagined it could be.

Vasquez nodded. “Yeah. I was organising construction a few clicks south of the main colony,” they said. “Vanessa managed to get past the field that the Collectors set up, but instead of running, she called me.”

There was a small part of them that was still angry with their wife because she had called them instead of trying to save herself. But the rest of Vasquez knew that that had been the kind of person Vanessa was: always thinking about other people before herself. It was one of the things they loved most about her. Had loved most about her.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “She obviously cared a lot about you.”

Vasquez grinned sardonically. “She was afraid I wouldn’t let go. But for her, I did. Or at least, I thought I did. Next thing I know, the invasion hits and there’s no time, so what do I grab?” They held up the datapad. “This. Out of all the things I could have grabbed, it was this.”

They sighed heavily. “What’s the point in moving on with your life when the rest of the universe is going to hell?” they demanded. 

Alex shook her head. “You can’t be thinking that way, Vas,” she said. “You do, and we’ve already lost.”

Vasquez ran a hand through their hair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” they said. 

Alex grinned. “I usually am,” she said. 

Vasquez returned the grin, but it faded almost as quickly as it arrived on their lips. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never felt more alone than I do right now,” they said.

Even more so with Vanessa dead. They found themself checking their omni-tool from time to time, half expecting a new message from her until they remembered she was gone. That she was dead. That she wasn’t coming back.

Alex squeezed their shoulder. “You’re not alone, Vasquez,” she said. “You’ve got a whole ship full of people that are here for you, and as your CO, I’m here whenever you need me.”

Vasquez tipped their head. “I appreciate that, Alex, I really do,” they said. They looked away and cleared their throat. “You don’t need to worry about this affecting my duties, though. When I’m in that pilot seat, I’m 100% there. I won’t fail you or the rest of the crew.”

“I’m certain you won’t, Lieutenant.” There was a pause. “Have you ever thought about maybe taking some downtime for yourself when we’re not in the middle of a mission?”

Vasquez was half tempted to point out that they were in the middle of a war and thus technically always in the middle of a mission, but they had a feeling that for all the dry humour the commander had, she wouldn’t be all that welcoming of that kind of snark. Not to mention, she had not done anything to deserve such a response.

They rubbed the back of their head awkwardly. “I’ve been trying to avoid it as much as I can,” they confessed.

Downtime meant no work. No work meant that they had time to think about Vanessa, to reminiscence about the past. Neither of those things were conducive to the war effort. Their mind had to stay on work, otherwise they risked falling apart as they had been earlier.

Their face must have said everything, because when they glanced back at Alex, she had a sympathetic look on her face, as if she understood. 

“I know,” Alex murmured. 

She probably truly did know, now that Vasquez thought about it. Alex had lost her ship, more than half of her crew, and her life just three years prior. During the few times they had been up on the crew deck, they had caught Alex standing in front of the Memorial Wall just staring at the names on it. 

“Right,” Vasquez coughed, “sorry.”

Alex waved their apology away. “It’s fine,” she said. “This conversation wasn’t about me, anyway.”

Just like that, Alex’s trademark cheeky grin was back on face. Vasquez couldn’t help but return it.

“I mean what I said, though,” she said. “If you need anything, even if it’s time away from the ship, just let me know.”

Vasquez nodded. “Aye, aye, Commander.”

-

“You coming up to the deck for chow?” Mon-el asked.

Vasquez looked up from their latest readout from the shuttle. “I’m not hungry,” they said.

Their stomach chose to growl angrily half a beat later.

They felt themself flush.

“Uh huh.” Mon-el raised an eyebrow at them. “It won’t kill you to come up for some air, Vas.”

Vasquez scowled at him. “There’s plenty of air down here,” they shot back.

Mon-el rolled his eyes. Before they could react, he yanked their datapads out of their hands. 

Vasquez started sputtering. “Matthews, the fuck?” they demanded.

He made a show of squinting at the readings. “Man, the light down here really is terrible. I can barely read these,” he said. He gave them a look. “I’m pretty sure the light up on deck is better.”

They sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope!” He gave them his cheekiest grin, the one that let Vasquez know they wouldn’t be getting their datapads back unless they went up to the crew deck with him.

Vasquez climbed out of the UT-47A and dropped down on to the cargo bay floor. “Fricken meathead,” they grumbled as they walked towards the elevator.

“You say the nicest things,” Mon-el drawled.

Vasquez flipped him off.

-

“You know, I would’ve been a lot less grumpy if you’d just opened the conversation by telling me Westmoreland was cooking tonight,” Vasquez said around a mouthful of gumbo.

“I forgot,” Mon-el said.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“We need to start keeping Rat bars down in the cargo bay to keep you from getting hangry, Vas,” he said.

Vasquez gave him a look. “You bring Rat bars anywhere near the cargo bay, and I disassemble your shotgun and space the pieces, pendejo,” they threatened.

“You touch my baby and I’ll space  _ you _ ,” he fired back.

Vasquez opened their mouth to issue another retort, but was cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat. As one, they and Mon-el both looked to see a woman, civilian from her appearance, standing at the edge of their table. Vasquez vaguely recognised her as the reporter that Alex had picked up the last time the Normandy had docked at the Citadel, but they couldn’t remember her name for the life of them. 

“Can I sit here?” she asked, pointing to the chair across from Vasquez.

Mon-el immediately got to his feet. “Go right ahead,” he said. “I’m about to head back down for some last minute maintenance, and I think they could use the company.”

“Hey, wait-” Mon-el was gone before Vasquez could finish. 

Vasquez let out an exasperated sigh. They glanced back at the reporter. “I’m sorry about him. He usually has better manners than that,” they said wryly.

The reporter laughed. “It’s fine,” she said. She held her hand out. “Erin King, Alliance News Network.”

Vasquez eyed the outstretched hand apprehensively. It was one thing to share a ship with a reporter. Speaking with one in the middle of dinner on said ship was a whole different matter entirely, especially when the last several months had left Vasquez extremely wary of the press. Still, they had been raised with a set of manners, so they returned the handshake, doing their best to hide any reluctance on their part.

“Lieutenant Vasquez,” they said.

Erin raised an eyebrow at them. “Just Vasquez?” she asked.

“Just Vasquez.”

“Okay.” Erin tilted her head. “So, Just Vasquez,” Vasquez’s lips twitched into a barely-there smile at the cheek, “what do you do here on the Normandy?”

Vasquez sat back. “Before I answer that, I have to ask, did you choose to ask me this question now, in the middle of dinner, just so that I’d be trapped by societal conventions?” they asked.

Erin laughed, likely because she thought that Vasquez was joking. Unbeknownst to her, they were not joking.

“No, I actually did need a place to sit for dinner and this spot was free,” she said. “You just happen to also be the only crewman that I haven’t gotten to talk to yet.”

Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Erin shrugged. “I’m stationed on the Normandy for the foreseeable future, or until Commander Danvers decides she wants to kick me off,” she gave Vasquez a grin, but they chose not to return it, “so I’d like to get to know everyone on the ship. That includes you.”

“And what about me makes it so that you singled me out tonight?” they asked.

“Honestly,” Erin leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice, “you’re probably the most mysterious person on this ship, after Commander Danvers herself. The crew talks about you, but I think I’ve only seen you once, not counting tonight, since I’ve boarded.”

Vasquez felt their cheeks heating up at her words. They coughed to try and brush her words away. 

“Before the invasion, I was lead for the team in charge of the retrofits for the lower deck. Guess my body’s still getting used to a new schedule now that we’re back in space. And in combat.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. They had been the lead for the team in charge of retrofitting the cargo bay, but their body had long since acclimated to the odd shifts that they worked since they spent nearly every waking moment working. 

“So you’re an engineer?” Erin asked.

“Kind of.” Vasquez took a bite of their gumbo. They held a hand up to get Erin to hold off any questions while they ate. After a few moments, they continued, “I’m a pilot, mainly fighters and shuttles.”

“Where does being in charge of ship retrofits fit in with that job description?”

Vasquez shrugged. “I've a master’s in mechanical engineering. I fly birds and I fix them up after missions as needed,” they said.

“Sounds like a lot of work for a single person,” she said.

Another shrug, another bite of gumbo to buy themself some time before they had to respond.

“I like it,” they said once they had finished chewing. “Keeps my mind busy.”

“Do you ever sleep?” Despite the joking tone, Vasquez could hear the note of concern in the reporter’s voice loud and clear.

“I’ve been known to doze from time to time,” they said. At Erin’s stunned look, they chuckled and said, “That was a joke, Ms. King. Yes, I do sleep. I have to. Flying sleep deprived is almost as bad as flying drunk, and when you’re Commander Danvers’ shuttle pilot, you can’t afford to be flying badly.”

Erin whistled. “Wow, shuttle pilot for Commander Danvers? That’s got to be some serious pressure,” she said.

“It is,” Vasquez confirmed. “But honestly, it’s not any different than what I’ve done before. I’m still responsible for getting people into and out of the battlefield in one piece. The people I take down are practically invincible on the ground, but when we’re in the air? They’re as vulnerable as can be. They’re my responsibility.”

There was something in the look that Erin gave them, a mixture of admiration and intrigue, that sent Vasquez’s stomach fluttering. 

“You make it sound so heroic, romantic even,” Erin said.

Vasquez took a large drink of water. “It’s really not. It’s just my job. That’s all I’m doing,” they said once they had drained their glass.

It was all they could do. They couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. Not again.

“You ever do anything outside of work?” she asked.

“No.” Because they refused to allow themself any downtime. 

Erin raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Because they had to work to stay sane. Because taking time off would mean thinking about Vanessa and Ferris Fields and everything they had lost. Because they had promised Vanessa that they would stay in the present, instead of clinging to the past. Because they were failing at the last two.

Vasquez shrugged. “Because,” they said. They hoped the finality in their tone would get Erin to drop it and maybe redirect the conversation in a different direction, like towards herself.

The way Erin narrowed her eyes at them told them that their hopes were for naught. It was clear to them that she was more than willing to press the matter. Vasquez wasn’t having that, deciding to redirect the conversation themself.

“Anyway, enough about me, how about you tell me a bit about yourself, Ms. King,” they said.

She blinked. “Excuse me?” she sounded taken aback.

Vasquez flashed a smile at her that only a handful of people would recognise as fake. “I’ve told you about myself, now it’s your turn,” they said. “Because it’s like you said, we’re gonna be on the same ship for the foreseeable future. Only makes sense that you know a little about me, I get to know a little bit about you.”

Namely, if they would have a serious reason to avoid her. 

Erin sat back. “That’s fair.” Based off of her tone of voice, it was obvious that she wasn’t all that used to being on the receiving end of questions. “What do you want to know?”

“Why ANN?”

“I’m from Bekenstein,” she said simply.

Vasquez blinked. Out of all the responses they had expected, that had not been one of them, and they couldn’t see what it had to do with their question.

“And on Bekenstein,” she continued, “the only stories that get told are the ones about the people who make six or seven figures a month. Not the normal people who are barely scraping by even though they’re the real reason the other people on Bek  _ are  _ making six and seven figures.”

“And ANN gets you normal people,” Vasquez guessed. “Have to say, though, if you wanted to do a story on normal people, you picked the wrong ship.”

Even before her first iteration was blown to pieces by the Collectors, the Normandy had a reputation for being a weirdness magnet. Vasquez hadn’t believed most of the stories until they got put in charge of retrofitting the cargo bay. Then they found out that the reputation had transferred over to the SR-2.

Erin laughed. 

Vasquez found their lips twitching into a small smile at the sound. She had a nice laugh.

“I don’t think I did,” she said.

Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

“Well, the banter between you and Lieutenant Matthews, for one, because that’s not something someone who looks to be larger than life does,” she said. “It’s something normal people do. Normal soldiers do.”

“And why is that so important to you?” they asked.

“Because wars aren’t won by superheroes. They’re won by everyday people like Lieutenant Matthews or Commander Danvers, and yes she counts as an everyday person because she’s said that’s how she sees herself,” Erin said. “They’re even won by mysterious pilots who seem to be quite enamoured with gumbo cooked by security officers. I want people across the galaxy to see that, to see that the crew of the Normandy is made of people just like them.”

The smile she gave Vasquez towards the end was glowing. It sent their stomach fluttering again. This time, they knew what that flutter was and they did not like it.

“That’s certainly an admirable goal,” they said. They stood up. “Well, it was nice talking with you, Ms. King--”

“Erin.”

Vasquez blinked. “Excuse me?” they asked.

“You can call me Erin,” she said. “Ms. King makes me sound like my mother.”

Vasquez tipped their head. “Right. Anyway, I, uh, I should go, I have to go,” they amended quickly. “I have reports I need to finish and some last minute shuttle repairs to do.”

The excuses spilled out so quickly that no one would have believed them. Vasquez pointedly refused to look Erin in the eye, if only so that they could convince themself that she did believe them. 

“Lieutenant-”

“Have a nice evening, Ms. King, Erin,” they said.

They hurried towards the elevator before she could try to say anything else.

-

“How was dinner with Erin?” Mon-el asked as soon as Vasquez stepped out of the elevator.

Vasquez glared at him. “It went just  _ fine _ ,” they growled. “Thanks for ditching me, by the way.”

Mon-el held his hands up. “Hey, it’s not my fault that I had to go do some weapons repairs,” he said. “Blame the Reapers for that one.”

His excuse was such bullshit that Vasquez half-wished they had a barrel full of air freshener to dump right on top of it. 

“Anyway,” he continued, “it’s not like me leaving was a bad thing. Being a third-wheel is so awkward.”

“Excuse me?” Vasquez demanded.

“Oh, come on, Vas,” they could practically see him rolling his eyes from across the cargo bay, “anyone with eyes can see that she’s into you.”

“And what, you thought I’d be into her?”

They could hear him rolling his eyes as he asked, “You really gonna tell me you aren’t? C’mon, she’s cute!”

“Just because she’s cute--”

“So you agree,” Mon-el cut in cheekily.

“No! I mean, yes,” Vasquez stammered, “but just because she is doesn’t mean that I’m interested in her, or that I will be!”

Their stomach flipped with every word, just like it had when Erin was talking to them, and they knew exactly why. 

“Me thinks the LT doth protest too much,” Mon-el singsonged. 

Vasquez growled in response and marched over to their console. They quickly pulled up the interface to give themself a distraction. They heard Mon-el’s boots clomping against the metal floor as he walked over.

“Vas.” They refused to look up. “Look, man, I just want you to be happy. You’re like a ghost, you know? Vanessa-”

Vasquez snapped. The console under their hands sparked in protest as their hand slammed against it.

_ “Not another word _ .” Their voice was like ice. It echoed throughout the cargo bay, sending the rest of its occupants scrambling for the elevator to escape the explosion that was building between the shuttle pilot and their friend.

“Vas-”

Vasquez held a hand up. “Stop, just stop,” they said. “I appreciate your concern, Mike, but I don’t need you or anyone else trying to get involved in my love life. I’m perfectly fine with the way things are.”

“Are you really, though?” 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Vasquez lied through gritted teeth. 

One day, those words would be the truth, but that day was not today.

Mon-el looked like he wanted to push the matter more, but a cold glare from Vasquez made his mouth click shut.

“Alright, I guess I’ll drop it, then,” he said.

_ For now _ , didn’t need to be said. Vasquez knew the brash lieutenant well enough by now to know that him dropping a matter was rarely a permanent thing. Mon-el was like a dog with a bone whenever he saw something that he thought needed fixing. 

Vasquez let out a breath as Mon-el slunk back to his side of the cargo bay. They ran a hand through their hair and braced themself against the console. It let out a few pitiful sparks, drawing a wince from them; they would have to fix that before they could get back to their regular shuttle maintenance.

They closed their eyes and saw Erin’s bright smile accompanied by her wonderful laugh. 

They shook their head to clear it. They didn’t need to be thinking about that. Not now. They pulled up their omni-tool and tried to focus on starting the necessary repairs even as Mon-el’s rang in their ears. 

Erin was cute and maybe, just maybe, she was attracted to them. But they weren’t attracted to her.

_ You’re probably the most mysterious person on this ship, after Commander Danvers herself. _

A glowing smile.

Vanessa’s final plea,  _ Promise me. Don’t make me an anchor, promise me. _

Vasquez swallowed unconsciously. 

They weren’t attracted to Erin. They weren’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it. If you did, please leave a comment and feel free to come say hi on tumblr @sandstonesunspear


	3. Three Steps Forward...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin leaned against the crates. “There’s got to be something that you did to relax before the war started,” she said. “Something that didn’t involve shuttle repairs 24-hours a day.”
> 
> Vasquez thought about it. A small smile made its way onto their lips. “Now that I think about it, yeah,” they said.  
“What was it?” Erin asked.
> 
> Vasquez raised an eyebrow at her. “Why so curious? Looking for a new story?” they asked.
> 
> By now, her blush had faded, but it came right back up at their words.
> 
> “No!” she denied. “I just, it’s like I said the last time you were in the mess hall: I want to get to know you.”

For once, Vasquez was willing to admit they were a little exhausted. 

Back to back missions, an impromptu dog fight with Cerberus fighters done while they themself were in the Kodiak, and a war council that ended with the Krogan Chief seizing their shuttle to rescue Alex had left them drained. They were looking forward to climbing back into the Kodiak after repairs were finished and getting some well deserved shut eye.

Their omni-arc welder sparked as they readjusted the Kodiak’s thruster coils.

“You know, I know you said you do sleep, but I’m having a tough time finding evidence of that, Lieutenant Vasquez,” a voice said from behind them.

Vasquez looked up from the shuttle thruster they were working on. They lifted up their welding mask and looked back to see Erin walking over.

“Ms. King,” they greeted, surprised. At the look she gave them, they quickly amended, “Erin. What are you doing down here? I’m sure this area of the ship is restricted to crew access only.”

Erin shrugged. “Commander Danvers has pretty much given me free reign of the ship, with the exception of her quarters and Dr. Sawyer’s quarters,” she said.

“Uh huh.” Vasquez fired off a quick message to Alex to confirm that. A few moments later, their omni-tool pinged in confirmation. “Well, I guess she has.”

“Told you.” A beat. “Everything okay with that shuttle?”

Vasquez glanced at it. “Oh yeah, she’s fine, it’s just that the inertia dampener coils have a tendency to be twitchy on UT-47s,” they said.

“Is that a bad thing?” Erin sounded curious.

Vasquez shrugged. “Depends on who you talk to. If you talk to your average flight mechanic, they’ll say it’s not that big a deal.”

Erin raised an eyebrow at them. “And if I talk to you?” she asked.

Vasquez grinned. “I’d say it’s kind of a big deal because I notice how choppy the ride can get,” they said. They turned back to start working again. “Course, I might be a bit biased because I’m in her just about every day and know her like the back of my hand.”

There was a snort from Erin. 

It took Vasquez a moment to figure out why and when they did, they felt their cheeks heat up.

They pointedly refused to look at her. “I’ve been running missions for the last three days and had a Krogan take my shuttle,” they defended. “I’m allowed a slip of the tongue.”

“Sounds like you need rest then,” Erin said.

“I’ll get it, once I finish this last series of tweaks.” 

Work first, sleep later. That had been Vasquez’s motto since Ferris Fields.

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” she said.

Vasquez’s brow furrowed. They looked up from the thruster to give Erin a confused look. “What do you mean?” they asked.

She sighed. “I mean, you’re rarely ever above deck,” she said, “and you don’t ever seem to go on shore whenever the Normandy docks.”

Vasquez blinked. “...I didn’t think you’d notice things like that,” they said.

They watched Erin’s cheeks turn pink. “I’m a reporter,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Vasquez nodded. “Makes sense.” 

Most of the reporters they had met, save for Emily Wong, were nosy bastards able to ferret out information like Volus could ferret out credits. They would have found it impressive, had those journalists taken a hint and left them alone rather than poking at an open wound.

Erin coughed. “Anyway, the point stands: you never take the time to do anything that gives yourself a break,” she accused.

Vasquez couldn’t help but wonder if Mon-el had put her up to this. “Excuse you, I do,” they retorted, motioning to the Kodiak as proof. 

Erin rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count,” she said. 

Vasquez sputtered. “Of course it counts!” It kept them and their mind busy, let them focus on what was right in front of them instead of the memories.

Erin leaned against the crates. “There’s got to be something that you did to relax before the war started,” she said. “Something that didn’t involve shuttle repairs 24-hours a day.”

Vasquez thought about it. A small smile made its way onto their lips. “Now that I think about it, yeah,” they said.

“What was it?” Erin asked.

Vasquez raised an eyebrow at her. “Why so curious? Looking for a new story?” they asked.

By now, her blush had faded, but it came right back up at their words.

“No!” she denied. “I just, it’s like I said the last time you were in the mess hall: I want to get to know you.”

Know them so she could get a story, was more likely the case in Vasquez’s opinion. Still, they kept it to themself. No point in being a dick when Erin was nice. They would hate to see her smile fade.

Vasquez stepped away from the Kodiak’s thruster and ran a hand through their hair. “I remember this one thing me and my wife used to do back when we were stationed on the Hawking together, back when the Hawking was stationed at Arcturus,” they said. 

“I didn’t know that you’re married,” Erin said. 

“I’m not.” The words still hurt to say out loud. “Not, not anymore. My, uh, my wife, she died about ten months ago. Um, there was an attack on the colony we were stationed at and she, she didn’t make it.”

“Oh, Vasquez.” Vasquez looked away. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’ve, I’ve made my peace with it and all that jazz.” They coughed. “Um, so, yeah, me and her, we’d just go to the observation deck that overlooked the main flight paths, turn off the audio emulators and just watch the ships drift on by in silence.”

“You know, there are views like that on the Citadel,” Erin said. Her voice was gentle, but Vasquez still heard it loud and clear. “Maybe check it out the next time the Normandy docks? Get out of the cargo bay for once.”

There was a little levity towards the end of her statement, but it ultimately fell flat between the both of them.

Vasquez sighed. “I don’t know,” they said. “There’s so much here that needs to get finished.”

“I can always go ask Commander Danvers and see if she’ll make it an order.” Their head snapped to Erin. “I think she’d listen if I brought it up. The welfare of her mysterious shuttle pilot is of the utmost concern, you know, since they’re responsible for making sure she gets in and out of combat safe.”

She gave them a pointed look towards the end.

“...that’s a dirty move, right there,” Vasquez eventually said.

The grin she gave them was adorably cheeky. “I’ve learned my fair share of them,” she said. “Comes with being a reporter. It can be a very dirty job sometimes.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” they asked.

“Nope.”

They had a feeling she actually would go to Alex, who they were certain  _ would _ order them to take time off. It was a similar tactic Vanessa had used when they had first started dating. It was remarkably effective.

“Alright, Erin, I know when I’m beat,” they said.

“So, does that mean…?”

Vasquez let out a breath. “Yeah, next time the Normandy docks, I’ll take some time off and check out that spot you mentioned,” they grumbled.

Erin let out a whoop. 

Vasquez shook their head. They quickly knocked their welding mask back over their face and got back to work as a smile crossed their lips.

-

“Do my eyes deceive me? Lieutenant Vasquez is actually stepping off the Normandy and coming ashore with the rest of the crew?” Mon-el asked dramatically.

Vasquez rolled their eyes. “Oh, shove off,” they said without any real heat behind their words.

Mon-el clapped them on the shoulder. “Seriously, though,” he said, lowering his voice, “it’s really good that you’re off the ship for once, Vas.”

Vasquez smiled slightly, but it felt fake. They didn’t know if they should also feel glad that they were off the ship as well. There was a not-so small part of them that was already itching to get back aboard.

“So, where you gonna go? Purgatory? Maybe knock back a few drinks?” he asked.

“Nah,” Vasquez shook their head. They actually had every intention of getting right back to work the next morning, something they wouldn’t be able to do if they were nursing a hangover. “I’m gonna go watch ships.”

It sounded so lame out loud.

“Ships?” Mon-el raised an eyebrow.

Vasquez shrugged. “Erin said there was a good spot not too far from here. Figured I might as well go check it out.”

“You’re calling her  _ Erin  _ now?” If it was possible, Mon-el’s eyebrow went up even higher.

Vasquez felt their cheeks heat up. They coughed. “She’s the one who insisted I call her that,” they defended. “Said that calling her Ms. King makes her feel like she’s her mother.”

“Uh huh.” Mon-el didn’t look all that convinced. 

Vasqeuz scowled at him and punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t be weird about it. She asked that I use her first name, so I’m just complying with her request,” they said.

Vasquez didn’t know why he had honed in on them using Erin’s first name; as far as they could tell, everyone else on the ship called her Erin as well. 

“Uh huh,” he said again. “Well, have fun with that. I’m gonna go to Purgatory, where they keep it real.”

“Make smart choices, Mr. Matthews!” they called towards his retreating back. “I’m not bailing your ass out if C-Sec arrests you!”

Mon-el waved them off.

Vasquez sighed. Once he was out of sight, they pulled up their omni-tool to see just where they were headed. To their surprise, the spot Erin had recommended wasn’t that far away. They closed it and made their way to the end of the docking bay.

As they walked, Vasquez couldn’t help but overhear bits and pieces of conversations around them. 

_ “There’s a good chance I won’t even be on the frontlines, honey.” _

_ “I know, but I’m gonna worry anyway because it’s still a warzone, Nyrus.” _

_ “I’ll be okay. I promise.” _

_ “You can’t promise that.” _

_ “Then I’ll do everything I can to make sure I can come back home to you and our girls.” _

Vasquez’s fist clenched unconsciously. That was a conversation they and Vanessa had had multiple times over the years whenever Vasquez had to go out and fly. They both might have been military, but it wasn’t enough to stop the fear that someone would go wrong with whatever Vasquez happened to be flying that day.

_ I can’t help you once you push off, Vas. If something goes wrong, I won’t be able to fix it or-- _

_ I’ll be okay, Vanessa. We checked the Trident multiple times, it’s fine. _

_ Okay. Come back to me? _

_ Always. _

Vasquez grunted when they collided with a Keeper. The Keeper kept right on moving, as if it hadn’t even noticed the collision. It was highly likely, given how single-minded the Keepers tended to be.

Vasquez shook their head to clear it. By now, the couple they had heard on the way were out of earshot. They glanced at their omni-tool to double check and see if this was the right spot. Two confirmatory beeps were their answer.

They let out a breath and leaned forward against the railing. “Alright, let’s try this shore leave thing,” they muttered quietly.

-

Letting themself slip into the peace of ship watching was easier than Vasquez expected. Even with the hum of the docking bay behind them, it was still peaceful. It might have been a sign of just how worn out they were, but honestly, they weren’t going to complain. 

“Hey! You finally made it out of the cargo bay and off the Normandy!”

Vasquez jumped at the sound of Erin’s voice. They looked left to see her walking towards them. 

“Sorry,” she said once she was close enough, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t. I was just distracted,” Vasquez looked back out the window to the countless skycars and ships flying by. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad I did. Even with the chaos of all the refugees, seeing so many ships in flight is comforting. Gets me thinking.”

A ship caught Vasquez’s attention. They stood up straight. “Whoa, hey, a Turian frigate!” They squinted to get a better look. “I think that’s the PFS Havincaw.”

“What’s a Turian warship doing all the way out here at the Citadel?” Erin asked.

Vasquez tilted their head, examining the ship that was drifting by. It took them a few seconds to find what they were looking for.

“Probably looking for dry dock,” they said. They pointed towards the Havincaw’s aft end. “Look at the waver in her drive core emissions. She’s seen battle, and pretty recently, I bet.”

From a distance, the waver was small, but Vasquez knew from experience that any waver at all in drive core emissions was bad news. They wouldn’t be surprised if the Havincaw’s crew were all wearing envirosuits on the ship to protect themself from the excess radiation the drive core was emitting; even Turians had their limits. 

“Can you imagine what she’s gotta be feeling? Alone, limping, looking for a haven?” Vasquez asked absently. “Maybe it would’ve been easier to just go down fighting, like their families back home.”

“Are you talking about the Turians, or yourself?” Erin asked quietly.

Vasquez’s grip tightened around the railing. They knew without a shred of doubt that Vanessa had gone down fighting. That was just how their wife was; the scrapiest engineer in the Alliance.

“I should have been there. With Vanessa,” they muttered. “I should’ve, god, I should’ve stayed home that day. Maybe if I’d done that, she’d still be here.”

Or not, knowing the Collectors. Vasquez had heard all the stories whispered throughout the colonies. They knew that no one, save one lucky Quarian, had survived the Collector abductions. Not for the first time, was Vasquez thankful that Alex had destroyed them and their godforsaken base even if its destruction had come too late for Ferris Fields.

“Or you’d both be dead,” Erin pointed out. Her voice was surprisingly sharp, and it took Vasquez off guard. “You’d both be dead, you wouldn’t be on the Normandy, wouldn’t be Alex’s shuttle pilot, and we, we never would have met.”

Her voice cracked towards the end. On instinct, Vasquez found themself placing a hand over hers in comfort, only to pull it back half a second later when they realised what they were doing. 

“Yeah,” Vasquez coughed, “I guess you’re right about that.”

“I’m a reporter, being right is kinda in the job description,” she said.

Vasquez snorted. “Right,” they said. 

Erin lightly punched them in the shoulder. “It’s way too early for you to be sounding like that,” she said. “Alex hasn’t even killed a Reaper yet.”

Vasquez shook their head. “I still can’t believe she did that,” they said. “Seeing that...that thing get blown to pieces? One of the best things I’ve ever seen.”

“Wait, you were there?” 

Vasquz glanced at Erin. “Yeah,” they nodded, “I was with First Fleet at the time, on the Benjamin Davis.”

“Shuttle pilot?” Erin guessed.

Vasquez shook their head. “No, the Alliance had me flying fighters at the time. Vanessa was Chief Engineer,” they said. “I think I was right over the Tayseri Ward when I saw Sovereign start to come down. It was a hell of a lightshow for a moment, then one of its tentacles took out the Dilinaga Concert Hall. Almost took me out too, but I pulled up and off into Zakera just in time.”

“Damn.” 

Out of the corner of their eye, they could see how impressed Erin looked. It made them duck their head to hide the smile grin that was playing across their lips. It slowly faded, though, the more they thought about that day.

“I’ve flown combat before, you know,” they said. “But nothing compares to that day, at least, not until now. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemies.”

The vids always made space combat look so glamorous, but experience had taught Vasquez that reality was very different. Explosions were silent unless they were happening to you. No one could hear anyone scream unless the comms were going and if they were, the screams that came through were even worse than what the vids could produce. Vasquez still had nightmares about Sovereign’s beam ripping through entire squadrons of fighters, of close friends.

“I bet.” Erin’s voice was soft. 

Vasquez looked off in the distance, trying to keep their mind off of the massive red beam that had killed so many. That was still killing so many. 

They jolted when Erin suddenly asked, “Is that an Alliance ship?” 

Vasquez followed her line of sight to see an Alliance cruiser slowing coming past. “Yeah,” they nodded.

“What’s it doing all the way out here?” Erin sounded confused. “I would have thought that all of the Alliance ships were with the fleet or something.”

Vasquez looked closer. “That’s the SSV London, decommissioned years ago. Look, no guns,” they pointed so that Erin could see just what they were talking about. “Refugees must’ve salvaged her from a shipyard. Geneva-class cruisers always had eezo cores like granite.”

“You know a lot about ships,” Erin said.

Vasquez let out a soft laugh and shook their head. “What I know is nothing compared to what Vanessa knew,” they said. “She’d look at a ship and with that glance, be able to tell you everything there was to know about it: the number of people it could hold, the minimum crew that could run it, how much eezo the core used, the generation that core was, where it was built, the kind of FBA-couplings it needed…” 

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Erin said. From her eyes, Vasquez could tell that she was being genuine, instead of just saying an empty platitude.

“Yeah,” they said softly, “she was.” 

Vasquez exhaled and looked back out at the ships. “That’s actually how we met.”

“Looking at ships?” Erin asked.

“No, over FBA couplings.” At Erin’s confused look, they elaborated, “We were both stationed on the Einstein back in 2179. She was second in command of the Einstein’s engineering department and officially, I was the new flight jockey-”

“And unofficially?”

Vasquez felt their cheeks turn pink. “Unofficially,” they coughed, “I was running a grey-market trading network, and the Alliance wanted to see how far I could get my network before the ship brass caught wind. I’d been on the Einstein about a month before I heard she was having issues locating new FBA couplings. Not a major engineering issue, just a hassle, but I figured I’d flex and see if I could find a set.”

“Are they rare?” Erin asked.

Vasquez shrugged. “Eh, not super rare, but Nashan Stellar Dynamics was starting to have some issues by that point, so their couplings were getting hard to find,” they grinned. “But I knew a guy, who knew a guy, who knew another guy who just happened to owe me and the first guy some favours. Three days later, I plunked the couplings down on her desk.”

“How long did it take her to ask you out?”

“All of six hours. She showed up at the end of my shift and asked me out to dinner,” they said. “We got married a year later.”

“Did you propose with another set of FBA couplings?” Erin teased.

“I thought about it,” Vasquez said, “but then I figured a ring would go over better.”

They gave Erin a cheeky grin to let her know they were joking.

Erin laughed. “Good to know that you’re such a romantic,” she said.

“I’ll have you know that while I may be a soldier, that doesn’t mean I’m a complete meathead,” Vasquez said with mock indignation.

“Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of that,” she said. 

Vasquez didn’t miss the look she gave them. It made their face heat up all over again and they quickly focused their gaze back towards the ships.

“Don’t start giving up, Vasquez,” they heard her say. “If those refugees and the Turians haven’t, then neither can you.”

Her voice was gentle but fierce. It made them chuckle quietly. They could see the irony in a civilian telling a soldier like themself to keep on fighting. They couldn’t bring themself to be annoyed by it, especially not with Erin wearing a look of honest determination on her face. Even if she hadn’t said anything, her expression alone would have been more than enough to give them some inspiration. It almost reminded them of Vanessa.

The second their mind made the comparison, Vasquez felt a pang of guilt hit their stomach. They sighed heavily, leaning forward against the railing.

“I have to let go, for real this time,” they muttered under their breath.

“What was that?” Erin asked.

Vasquez shook their head. “Nothing.” A beat. “Erin?”

“Yeah?”

They looked at her. “Thank you, for convincing me to come do this,” they said. “And for being here with me. It’s always better with…” they trailed off.

Erin smiled. Vasquez felt butterflies start to rise up in their stomach at the sight. She placed a hand over theirs. This time, Vasquez kept themself from pulling away.

“Anytime,” she said.


	4. ...And Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bad time all around for Vasquez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So school's started up for me, which means chapters might be coming a little slower because I have class-related writing commitments that come first now. Sorry.

Vasquez was in a bad mood.

It had been building for weeks. It started with a mission to Eden Prime, a colony that reminded them far too much of Ferris Fields. Of the day that they had lost everything.

-

“This was a beautiful colony,” Alex had muttered.

“Give time and it will be again,” James had said.

Before Vasquez could stop themself, they blurted out, “They rebuilt Ferris Fields. It wasn’t the same.”

Ferris Fields had been different than other colonies hit by the Collectors because some of the population in the main colony had managed to fight back. Vanessa had been one of them. The row of leveled buildings that Vasquez and their crew had come upon once the Collectors had left had been a testament to that. Having to rebuild it afterwards had felt like such a slap in the face to everyone that had managed to survive.

“It never is,” James had responded. “Sorry, Lieutenant.”

Vasquez didn’t need to be looking at the Turian to know that he had an abashed expression on his face.

“It’s fine,” they had said.

It wasn’t fine.

-

They thought that would be the worst of it. For a few weeks, it seemed like it. Alex and her team were able to help the Krogans resecure an ancient ground-to-space cannon and used it to wipe out the Cerberus fleet, and then just days later, Alex cured the genophage. The sight of so many Krogans celebrating was something Vasquez never thought they would get to see, but it made for a beautiful sight.

The anniversary of both their wedding and Vanessa’s death drew closer, but Vasquez figured that as long as they had work to do, they would be fine. The only person who knew that both dates fell together was Mon-el and Vasquez had sworn him to secrecy. There were bigger things for the Normandy and her crew worry about; the grief of a lone shuttle pilot was not one of them.

Then, the week of the anniversary of Vanessa’s death, Cerberus attacked the Citadel.

-

It was like the Battle of the Citadel all over again, except they were in an unarmed shuttle with strict orders to not get shot down. They could only speed through the Zakera ward and watch as C-Sec officers fought for their lives and civilians were gunned down in the streets right alongside those officers. Vasquez spotted pockets of civilians attempting to fight back against the invading force, but they were outnumbered, outmanned, outgunned and quickly overwhelmed by Cerberus troopers.

By the time what was left of the Cerberus forces retreated, the Citadel’s streets looked more like a Picasso painting done in blood than they did actual streets. The sight of blue, green, and red blood smears made Vasquez’s blood boil. The Citadel had been a warzone once before, but that wasn’t what it was supposed to be. It was home for so many people, normal people who had nothing to do with Cerberus or the Reapers, people whose biggest concern up until that morning had been where to go eat or what shop to go to. 

-

It was the senseless waste of life at the worst possible moment that was made all the more worse when Alex revealed that humanity’s Councilor, Lauren Haley, had been behind the coup. There was a part of Vasquez that wasn’t surprised by the news; the hawkish human ambassador-turned-humanity’s Councilor had always made sure her disdain for other species was well known. But even though Vasquez held little love for Haley, it still came as a gut punch to find out that the woman who was supposed to represent humanity on the galactic stage was also responsible for nearly destroying it.

It proved to be the straw that broke the already-strained camel’s back. 

-

Vasquez pulled the trigger. The Predator clicked, but otherwise did nothing. They watched Crewman Tsung sag in relief. It made them angry.

“And just why exactly are you relieved that this gun didn’t fire, Crewman?” they demanded.

“I, I-” he stammered.

It only made Vasquez angrier.

They slapped the pistol to the hapless crewman’s chest, making him grunt. They took a step closer to him. 

“If you had been maintaining that weapon as you were supposed to, you would have realised that it was missing its heatsink chamber,” Vasquez growled at him. “But you didn’t, and now you and your team are dead because you couldn’t be bothered to maintain your equipment.”

“Lieutenant, I-”

Vasquez cut him off, “Shut up and get out of my cargo bay.” They flicked a glance at the pistol still pressed against his chest. “And take that poorly maintained weapon with you. You and your team are dismissed until further notice.”

Tsung practically tripped over his feet as he scrambled away from them and towards the elevator. The rest of his squad gave Vasquez a wide berth as they all hurried to join Tsung.

Vasquez sighed in frustration and ran a hand through their hair. “Moron,” they muttered under their breath.

Replacing a gun’s heatsink chamber was such a simple thing. How on earth could Tsung have missed it?

“Hey!” Mon-el’s voice rang out. The sound of his boots stomping across the cargo bay echoed half a moment later. “What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded.

“My problem?” Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have one.”

“Yeah? Then the fuck do you call what you just did to Tsung?” he challenged.

“Teaching,” Vasquez replied coolly. A Mon-el’s incredulous look, they shrugged. “He should know better.”

“That doesn’t give you a right to tear him down like that, Vas.” 

“We’re in the middle of a galactic war, Mon-el,” they defended. “If Tsung can’t be bothered to keep his equipment in working order while we’re out of combat, then he won’t do it when we’re in combat, and then everyone on his team and this ship are dead.”

An unprepared ship was a dead ship. An unprepared  _ anything  _ was a  _ dead _ something. Ferris Fields had been unprepared for the Collectors. The Citadel has been unprepared for Cerberus. Both had paid for it with the lives of innocent people. The Normandy could ill afford to join that club. If Vasquez being harsh meant that the Normandy would be prepared, then they’d rip crewmen in half every single day until they died.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Excuse me?” Vasquez’s voice was like ice.

“You’re not worried about Tsung, or the readiness of the Normandy’s crew. You already know that they’re both in tip top shape, you’re just looking for an excuse to be angry,” he accused.

Vasquez felt their jaw clench. “If Tsung had-” they started.

Mon-el cut them off, “Tsung isn’t the reason you’re angry.” He folded his arms. “I can take a pretty good guess about what it is that has you so upset.”

“Mike,” Vasquez warned.

They knew where he was going with this and they weren’t in the mood to talk about it. The last thing they wanted to do right now was talk about Vanessa, or even have her mentioned around them. 

“Look, I get that it’s a shitty day and that it’s been a shitty couple of weeks, Vas, but that doesn’t give you the right to take your shit mood out on everyone else,” he said.

“I’m not taking it out on anyone else,” they denied. “I’m perfectly fine!”

Nothing could have been further from the truth than that statement. Mon-el seemed to think so too, because he gave them an unimpressed look.

“Are you sure about that? Are you really sure?” he asked. “Because take a good look around you! There’s no one else down here but you and me because the rest of the team is so fucking frightened by you right now, Vas!”

Vasquez had noticed that the cargo bay had seemed increasingly empty lately. They had just assumed Alex was reassigning people as she picked up new people. 

Vasquez folded their arms, wrapping an arm tightly around their bicep to keep from punching Mon-el in the face. 

“I have standards,” they said cooly, “and if they can’t handle them, then they shouldn’t be down here.”

“That, that is not how this works!” Mon-el said. Vasquez took a sick satisfaction at how aghast he looked. “Your wife being dead isn’t an excuse for you to be a dick to everyone, and it certainly isn’t an excuse to tear down crewmen over small things!”

“Tsung’s weapon-”

“Was fine,” Mon-el said flatly. “So he forgot to replace the heatsink chamber when he reassembled the gun, it happens. He would’ve realised that when he tried to fire it at the targets we have down here. He didn’t need you pointing it at his head and making him think you were about to vent his fucking skull!”

Vasquez scowled. It wasn’t like they would have done it had Tsung reassembled his weapon like he was supposed to.

Mon-el sighed. “This has been going on for  _ weeks _ , Vas,” he said. “You need to talk to someone.”

“No, I don’t.”

They were fine. 

Mon-el tilted his head. “You think Vanessa would say the same thing?” he asked.

It was the wrong question to ask.

There was a good chance that Mon-el didn’t realise just how on edge Vasquez was about Vanessa, but for Vasquez, it didn’t matter. He had pushed and pushed, ignoring their hints telling him to drop the matter, and now they had snapped.

Vasquez’s hand, which had been gripping their bicep so tightly they were sure there were fingernail marks from it, whipped out as a fist. It slammed into his face hard, sending the larger Marine onto the floor. The sound his body made echoed throughout the cargo bay.

_ “Get out,”  _ Vasquez growled.

They watched Mon-el sit up, blood steadily running down his face. From the crunch they had felt while punching him, they were willing to bet that they had broken his nose.

“Vasquez-” 

“I said get. Out.” 

They didn’t want to hear Vanessa’s name right now, especially not from him. As good a kid as he was, they were tired of hearing him. This wasn’t something he could fix and he needed to realise that.

Mon-el looked like he wanted to argue with them further, then appeared to think against it. They watched as he pushed himself up onto his feet and swayed.

“Alright, you know what?” he said. “I can tell you don’t want my help, so fuck you.”

“I never asked for your help. I don’t need any help,” they said coldly. 

Mon-el laughed. It sounded off thanks to his likely-broken nose. “Yeah, right, just keep telling yourself that, Vas,” he said. “Maybe one day it’ll be true.”

He walked off towards the elevator without a single glance back in their direction.

Vasquez waited until the doors to the elevator shut before grabbing a spanner. With a yell, they swung it towards the crates. The spanner sank into the wall of the crate with ease thanks to the plasma blade being activated mid flight. They watched it slowly make its way through the crate before the handle touched the ground. The force of it impacting the floor wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to finally turn it off.

There was a beat. Then the crate split in two, spilling its contents all over the cargo bay floor. 

Vasquez sighed heavily. “Fuck.”

-

Mon-el wiped blood from his nose. His face hurt like a bitch. He had to hand it to Vasquez: for a pilot, they punched  _ hard. _

“Hey, Brainy, is Erin in her quarters?” he asked.

_ “Ms. King is indeed in the starboard cargo bay.” _

“Sweet, thanks.”

_ “Should I alert Ms. King that you’re on your way, Lieutenant?” _ Brainy asked.

“Nah, it’ll be fine.”

_ “Very well. Logging you off, Lieutenant.” _

Mon-el selected the engineering deck and leaned back against the wall. What he had in mind was probably a terrible idea. Scratch that, it  _ was _ a terrible idea, but Vasquez needed help. If they weren’t gonna talk to him, then he was going to send down someone they would talk to.

_ “Engineering, Deck 3,”  _ the VI announced.

Mon-el stepped out. He wiped his nose again as he walked the short distance to Erin’s quarters. He had a feeling that his nose wasn’t going to stop bleeding any time soon, but that was fine for right now. If anything, it might help him convince Erin to go downstairs to talk Vasquez.

The door hissed open to reveal Erin before he could even knock. 

“Brainy told me you were coming,” she said in lieu of an actual greeting. “What happened to your face?”

“Dropped a Revenant on it,” he lied. As annoyed as he was with Vasquez right now, he wasn’t going to throw them under the bus.

“Showing off for Crewman Reiff again?” she asked.

He grinned. “How’d you know?”

“You two aren’t subtle.” Erin tilted her head. “So, what brings you down to my neck of the ship?”

“It’s Vasquez.”

He watched her demeanour turn serious in the blink of an eye. 

“What’s wrong? Are they okay?” she asked quickly.

Mon-el held a hand up to get her to slow down. “Whoa, yeah, they’re okay. Well, physically, I guess,” he said.

“You guess?” she demanded.

He shrugged. “It’s more emotional, it looks like,” he said. “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but they’ve been having a rough couple of weeks and they won’t tell me what’s bothering them.”

Another lie.

“I noticed.” Of course she did. The reporter paid more attention to Vasquez than she did most of the other crew. “I’m assuming you’re here to ask me to…” She trailed off and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I was wondering if you’d go talk to them, see if you can find out what’s bothering them,” he said.

“And then what, tell you?” Her eyebrow rose even higher. The way she folded her arms told him that, even if Vasquez did talk to her, she wasn’t going to tell him what was said. 

Mon-el shook his head. “No, I just need someone to get them to talk about what’s bothering them.” Erin didn’t look entirely convinced, so he tried a different angle, “I’m worried about them, Erin.”

The only truth he had spit out since he had come up from the cargo bay. He was worried. Vasquez was the most level headed Marine he had ever met, outside of Commander Danvers and Captain Toni. For them to be snapping at anything that moved and punching him in the face, those were all just signs as to how Not Okay they really were.

To his relief, those looked to be the magic words. He watched Erin’s eye soften.

“Alright, I’ll go down and check on them.” She looked him over. “You might want to get checked out yourself, though.”

He brought his hand up to his nose. To his dismay, it came back bloody. Vasquez had definitely broken his nose then.

“Goddammit,” he grumbled. He flicked a glance at Erin. She looked torn between amusement and concern. 

Erin laughed lightly and shook her head. “That’ll teach you not to bench press rifles in front of cute crewmen while you’re supposed to be repairing them, Lieutenant,” she said.

Mon-el waved her off. “Yeah, yeah.” A beat. “Erin?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks.”

-

Vasquez had no idea why they had pulled the datapad out. They were even more clueless as to why they pressed play. Just thinking about Vanessa hurt so much right now. Hearing her voice? They might as well have been gutted by a Brute.

_ “Vanessa, please, run! Get out of there! You can make it!” _

Their grip tightened around the datapad.

_ “No, I can’t. But you can. Promise me. I love you, but I know you. Don’t make me an anchor, promise me, Vasquez.” _

They heard the elevator ping behind them. Their grip tightened even further.

“I told you to get out, Mike,” they said angrily without bothering to look behind themself.

_ “No, don’t--” _

“Vasquez?”

Vasquez stiffened at the sound of Erin’s voice behind them. They glanced over their shoulder to see her coming towards them from the elevator. She stopped just feet away, as if to give them space.

Vasquez straighted, fingers still wrapped tight around the edge of the datapad. “Erin, what are you doing down here?” they asked.

“Mon-el asked me to come down, said that something was bothering you,” she said.

They felt their jaw clench. “Fucking jabberjay, him,” they growled out.

“He’s just worried, Vasquez,” Erin admonished them. “And honestly, so am I.”

Vasquez looked away. “It’s nothing,” they muttered.

“Obviously, it’s not.” 

Vasquez refused to respond to that.

There was a sigh from Erin. Vasquez didn’t have to be looking at her to know that she was already thinking of a different angle to try to get at them. They braced themself for whatever question she was going to ask, but still found themself taken aback when asked, “The datapad, is that…?”

Vasquez looked down at the datapad still in their hands. By now, their hands were starting to hurt. 

“It’s, it’s…” They wanted to say that it was nothing. That it was just a stupid vid or something, but they couldn’t. Vanessa’s last words weren’t nothing. Their vid message archive and the datapad were all they had left of her. 

Vasquez bit their lip as they worked to gather themself. To their relief, Erin hadn’t said anything. Instead, she waited patiently for them to respond.

“It’s from the day my wife died,” they eventually said. “Today’s...it’s the anniversary.”

There was a soft gasp from Erin. Then, “Oh my god, Ferris Fields.”

Vasquez blinked. “Excuse me?”

“The colony that you said you and your wife were stationed on, it was Ferris Fields,” she said. “I’d just assumed it was a raider attack, but it was the Collectors.”

“How do you figure?” They tried to keep the demanding note from the voice. They hadn’t mentioned anything about it to her, just the vaguest of details. Alliance colonies came under attack all the time, particularly if they were in the Traverse or out in the Terminus systems.

“It’s the only date that makes sense. What happened at Ferris Fields...it reached every ANN channel,” she said.

Vasquez felt the tips of their ears starting to burn. They tossed the datapad onto the console behind them in frustration.

“Of course it did,” they muttered bitterly.

It explained why so many reporters had swarmed the colony, or what remained of it, in the weeks following the attack. At the time, they had just figured it was the standard operating procedure for ANN until they heard that other colonies had only received a reporter or two to cover the latest disappearance.

“You were there when she was taken?” Erin asked.

Vasquez scoffed. “No, but I should’ve been. I was supposed to have been.” Their hand flex unconsciously. “Instead of being in bed with my wife celebrating our anniversary, I was at a construction site a few clicks away from the main colony.”

“Your anniversary?” Erin sounded stunned.

Vasquez gave her a sardonic smile. “Yeah, it was our, my, wedding anniversary,” they drawled out. “We’d been married five years the day of the attack, six today. Now, I’m on a ship in the middle of the Traverse all by myself.”

“You’ve got people-” Erin tried, but Vasquez wasn’t having it.

“My wife is dead!” they snapped and almost immediately felt guilty. Erin hadn’t done anything to deserve such a harsh response. “My wife is dead,” they said, voice softer, “and I, I didn’t even get a body to bury.”

Vasquez couldn’t stop their voice from cracking in the end. 

“Vasquez…”

“She got past the field they set up,” they said, “and then went right back in after she finished talking to me.”

“She went back  _ in _ ?” Erin asked in disbelief.

“How else do you think half of the main colony got destroyed?” they asked blandly. “She and a handful of other colonists that managed to avoid the initial attack got to the spaceport and overloaded the drive cores of the ships that had docked there. We felt the shockwave before we saw the smoke. By the time we got down there, the Collectors were gone and there was nothing left.”

Nothing other than smoking ruins. No blood, no bodies, no Vanessa. Just ash and grief.

“I didn’t know,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Erin might have been a reporter, but the detail of Ferris Fields colonists being the ones who levelled their own colony in a desperate, final bid to save the rest of it was one that had been kept close to the vest by those that had remained. None of them had wanted their loved ones used as propaganda pieces. All Vasquez and the others had wanted instead was just peace and privacy to grieve. In the end, they and the remaining colonists of Ferris Fields had received neither of those things. 

Vasquez turned back to their console. They took a deep breath to try and gather themself.

“You know what the remaining colonial authority had us do not even a week later?” they asked over their shoulder.

“What?”

“They had us rebuilding. Wanted us to make it look like nothing had even happened.” Vasquez’s fists tightened. “We had all just watched the people we loved either get taken or blown to bits trying to save the colony and the fucking colonial leadership wanted to pretend that nothing happened!”

It had been such a slap in the face to Vasquez. They had broken the nose of president of Ferris Fields when he told them and their crew that. Vasquez probably would have killed him too, had the rest of their crew not stepped in. 

“Dwyer and his family were lucky enough to be off planet. He didn’t lose  _ anyone _ ,” Vasquez said bitterly. “I did. Everyone left behind lost someone. Vanessa  _ died _ to save the rest of us and Dwyer, he, he wanted to paper over that.”

They jumped when they felt Erin’s hand on their shoulder. They glanced back and saw her eyes shining not with pity, but sympathy. It made them break. 

Vasquez felt their knees buckle. Erin pulled them close and held them before Vasquez could hit the floor. They clung to her tightly as tears started to roll down their face.

“He wanted to pretend that nothing had happened. That Ferris Fields could just move on from that,” they whispered. “And it couldn’t. I couldn’t, I still can’t. I thought I had, because I promised Vanessa that I would, but I…”

Hadn’t moved on. The fact that they still had the datapad with their final conversation with her, and a vid archive of every message she had sent them over the years, should have been proof enough of that. But they had ignored it. Or at least, ignored what it meant. And now they could no longer ignore it. Vanessa was gone. She wasn’t coming back and they knew that, but knowing wasn’t the same as acceptance. She might have been dead and dusted thanks in part to the Collectors, but there was still a part of Vasquez that refused to accept it.

“It takes time, Vas,” she said. 

Vasquez didn’t have time, though. Not with the Reapers here, not with the Alliance and everyone else fighting desperately to stay alive. 

They gripped Erin’s shirt tighter. “I promised her, Erin. I promised her and I haven’t kept my promise. I’m failing her all over again,” they sobbed.

They felt Erin pull them even closer. “You’re not failing anybody,” they heard her say. “You’re grieving something horrific, Vas. You need to give yourself time to really do that-”

“It’s been a year,” Vasquez muttered. They inwardly winced at how rough their voice sounded. It matched just how shredded they felt. “It’s been a year, Erin, and I was supposed to have moved on but I haven’t and now the Reapers are here and I-” 

They cut themself off when they felt Erin move back ever so slightly. They looked up and found her pressing a light kiss to their nose. There was a brief pause. Then, without thinking, Vasquez kissed her.

It was more a move made from muscle memory than as a conscious decision on their part; Vanessa had always loved kissing their nose, and overtime they had come to respond with a kiss to her lips.

Their eyes slipped shut at the feel of Erin’s lips on theirs. It was nothing like they were used to. Vanessa’s kisses had always been soft, but her lips had been rough and chapped thanks to her time in heated engineering decks. Her kisses always tasted like eezo thanks to the drive cores she worked around, and would always leave Vasquez’s lips tingling after a kiss. Erin’s lips, on the other hand, were soft and had the sweet aftertaste of Akantha on them.

The sweet taste made Vasquez freeze. Erin. They were kissing Erin. They pulled away with a gasp.

“Vasquez?” The confused and concerned look she gave them sent a wave of guilt crashing through Vasquez.

Vasquez quickly pushed themself to their feet. “I’m so sorry,” they said. 

“You don’t have to apologise for anything.” She stood and took a step towards them. 

Vasquez immediately took a step back. “I, I should go,” they stammered out. 

“Vasquez, wait-”

Vasquez rushed towards the elevator before Erin could even finish. Their heart pounding beneath their ribs as guilt ate at them. They had told Erin that they hadn’t moved on from their wife, yet they had kissed her anyway. They had used her. 

The elevator clunked once as it arrived in the cargo bay. Vasquez quickly got inside and punched the number for the crew deck. They had to get out of the cargo bay. The last thing they saw before the elevator doors shut was Erin standing by their workstation, fingers touching her lips and looking as if they had just broken her heart. 

From the way they could feel their own heart clenching in response, they had.


	5. Misery Choir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse for Vasquez as they try to deal with the aftermath of The Kiss.

Vasquez was miserable. 

It had been a week since they had kissed Erin. Things had grown tense between the two of them. She had stopped addressing them as just “Vasquez” and had instead taken to calling them, “Lieutenant Vasquez” whenever they were in each other’s company. They in turn had started calling her, “Ms. King.” Every conversation they had with her was curt, with none of the warmth that Vasquez had grown used to. 

Vasquez hated it. They missed Erin’s smile and her laugh and the way that her eyes would light up when she talked about whatever news story she was working on. Most of all, they just missed her. 

“Okay, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” they heard Mon-el say from behind them, “but I actually miss you being a dick to everyone. Seeing you like this is just depressing, Vas.”

Vasquez flipped him off. 

Mon-el leaned against their work console. “Erin was supposed to help you be less of a dick,” he said.

“You just said I’m not being a dick to everyone,” they retorted. 

“Yeah, well, she was also supposed to make you feel better. Or at least help you.”

“She did.” And then they had gone and fucked it all up.

“But you’re down here moping,” he said.

Vasquez gave him a look. “I don’t _ mope _,” they said.

“Really?” Mon-el gave them a look of disbelief. “Then what the hell do you call this?”

He motioned to the large mess of parts and various datapads scattered around Vasquez.

Vasquez shrugged. “I’m busy with work.” Not a total lie, even if most of that work was just stuff they had come up with on their own.

Mon-el picked up one of the datapads. “Repair manual for an A-61 Mantis Gunship? Vas, we don’t even have one of those on the Normandy,” he said.

Vasquez snatched it back from him. “We might. Alex picks up weird, random things all the time,” they defended. 

“Uh huh.”

“Brainy got himself an actual body and we picked up a fucking Prothean, an actual real-life Prothean, on Eden Prime,” they reminded him. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair, but even if Alex somehow did manage to get one of those, where the fuck would we put it?” He raised an eyebrow at them. “We’ve got enough room down here in the cargo bay for two shuttles.”

Vasquez shrugged again. “We could always just get rid of your workstation and shove the gunship there,” they said, half-jokingly.

The unimpressed look Mon-el gave them told them that their joke had fallen flat.

Mon-el sighed. “Look, I get that you’ve got this need to be prepared for everything, Vas, but this is a bit much,” he said. “You were already a workaholic before and now? It’s like all you do is work and sleep.”

“We’re in the middle of a war, Mon-el,” they said.

“Yeah, and?” His eyebrow went even higher. “That doesn’t mean you have to eat, sleep, and breathe your work, dude. Maybe step away from the console and do something else.”

Mon-el didn’t seem to understand just how much they could _ not _do that. Vasquez needed to distract themself, now more than ever given how badly they had messed things up between Erin and them. The more they worked, the less time they would have to think about the reporter and the utter look of heartbreak on her face a week prior.

“No.” Stepping away from the console would mean losing the only distraction that they had.

Mon-el sighed heavily. “This really isn’t healthy, Vas.”

“Ironic words from the man whose idea of a counseling session involved him getting his ass handed to him by the Commander,” Vasquez remarked dryly. 

They saw his eyes narrow. It was obvious that his beatdown at Alex’s hands was still a sore spot for him in more ways than one.

“I’m just worried about you, dude. Like, even more than before, ‘cause you actually had a little life to you and now,” Mon-el made a vague motion. “Now, it’s like the only reason you’re still around is because of work.”

“I’m fine, Mon-el, honest,” they said, giving him a small half-smile that felt as fake as it probably looked.

Mon-el scoffed. “You keep saying that, but I’m not seeing any evidence,” he fired back.

Vasquez raised an eyebrow in challenge. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Honestly, I feel like that’s up for debate,” he said bluntly.

It wasn’t a debate that Vasquez was in the mood to have. They glared at him. “I’m here. There’s nothing wrong with me,” they said.

“Okay, fine, but things between you and Erin-” he tried, only to get cut off by them.

“There’s nothing between us,” Vasquez said sharply. “Nothing.”

Not anymore. They had gone and ruined whatever it was between the two of them when they had kissed Erin. When they had used her without thinking.

There was a soft, “Jesus fucking Christ, Vasquez,” from Mon-el that made Vasquez’s jaw clench in annoyance. 

“If that’s all, Mr. Matthews, I’m gonna ask you to step away from my workstation so I can do my job,” they said coldly.

Mon-el looked at them with a neutral expression on his face. Vasquez returned it, no longer possessing the patience to deal with any more misplaced concern from him. They wanted to get back to work. They needed to.

“...alright, Mx. Vasquez, I can see that you’re no longer open to conversation,” he eventually said. “Have a good rest of your shift.”

The formal note his voice took made Vasquez wince inwardly. It was rare that Mon-el was ever that formal with anybody, but when he was, experience had taught them that it meant he was extremely upset.

Vasquez turned their attention back to the series of datapads around them. They sighed. “Yeah.”

-

“Vasquez.”

Vasquez glanced over their shoulder to see Alex coming off the elevator. “Alex,” they greeted. “What brings you to my neck of the ship?”

Alex handed them a datapad without preamble. “Brief for an upcoming mission, straight from Alliance Command,” she said.

Vasquez was immediately all business. They looked over the mission brief. It all seemed relatively straightforward: escort a team into a recently cleared Cerberus base and search for anything the initial clearing team had missed. They found it a little odd that the orders were coming directly from Alliance Command, given that Alex had a tendency to just stumble upon Cerberus bases and clear them out herself with extreme prejudice. Then, the final line of the mission brief registered with their brain.

_ Escort ANN reporter Erin King and assist her in gathering information for an expose piece on Cerberus activities. _

Vasquez felt their heart seize in their chest even as they frowned.

“Alliance Command can’t be serious,” they said.

“They are,” Alex confirmed.

Vasquez immediately started sputtering. “She’s a civilian!” they protested.

“And she’s the best damn reporter in the entire goddamn galaxy, short of Lois Lane,” Alex snapped. 

“So we grab her camera, or we use body cams and take the footage ourselves, then have her write the story later,” Vasquez said. “There’s no reason to have her go down with you and your team into a zone that’s got a high potential to turn hostile, clear or not.”

Experience they had gained over the last several months had taught them that no Cerberus site was ever truly clear until Commander Alex Danvers set foot in it. Vasquez had lost count of the number of supposedly clear bases that had turned into active fire zones.

“Body cam footage wouldn’t have the same effect,” Alex said.

Vasquez’s frown deepened. “The hell it won’t.” A beat, then they remembered who they were talking too. “Ma’am.”

“Would you throw up or cry or otherwise look like you want to tear Cerberus apart with your bare hands if you saw the inside of a Cerberus base, Lieutenant?” Alex asked. 

Vasquez blinked. “...No, I wouldn’t,” they admitted. 

They and Alex were soldiers. They had both been trained to brush off death like it was nothing because, compared to the mission at large, it was nothing. Grief and guilt could come later, assuming you survived to that point.

Alex nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “But if someone like Erin goes in, then you’re guaranteed a human reaction. And human reaction is what we need, because the galaxy needs to know that for all their claims to the contrary, Cerberus does _ not _ stand for humanity. Cerberus stands for itself. The sooner people realise that, the better.”

Vasquez let out a breath. “I’m just gonna say it one more time, Alex: she’s a _ civilian _. She’s, she’s not like us, or like Maggie. She’s, she’s actually squishy,” they said.

It sounded so childish to say it out loud, but it was the truth. Alex had made a career of getting shot at, as had Vasquez. Erin? Erin’s career centered around getting the facts. Words were her weapon, not guns or cannons or starships.

Alex walked over and braced herself against the console. “I know. Believe me, I’m painfully aware of just how vulnerable certain members of this ship are,” she said. “And if we, if the Alliance didn’t absolutely need this, I would tell them to fuck off.”

They would probably listen, now that Vasquez thought about it. Alex might have been an Alliance officer, but she was also a Spectre. That put her outside of the Alliance’s command and gave her the right to tell higher ranking officers to go fuck themselves.

“But we can’t keep fighting this war on two fronts,” Alex continued. “We need Cerberus out of the picture, or at least for their forces to take enough of a hit that they have to focus on containing themselves instead of fighting everyone else. Erin’s our best bet to get that to happen.”

Vasquez hated how right Alex was. Saying that Erin was the best reporter in the galaxy, short of Lois Lane, wasn’t just a compliment, it was the truth. Everything she had written or reported on had straight facts, but it also carried a raw emotion that other reporters just didn’t have. 

“Do you really expect me to escort a civilian into a Cerberus base?” they eventually asked.

Alex glanced at them. “I can always ask Mon-el to pilot the shuttle, if this is going to be that big of an issue for you, Lieutenant,” she said coolly.

“No!” Vasquez said immediately. “I can do it.”

If things went south, Erin would need the best pilot to make sure that she got back safe. As good a pilot Mon-el was, especially in a pinch, Vasquez would sooner eat glass then have him piloting a shuttle with Erin in.

Alex nodded. “Good. Then I’ll go let Admiral Grant know that we’re green.” She took the datapad from them and moved to leave, but paused before she went too far. “Lieutenant Vasquez?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“What just happened, your reaction? That can’t happen again during the mission, understood?” she asked.

Vasquez’s jaw clenched. “Understood, _ Commander _.” 

-

Vasquez took a deep breath to center themself. They hadn’t been on the crew deck with the rest of the crew in over a week because it was where Erin would spend most of her downtime. In their bid to avoid her, they had gone into a self-imposed exile of sorts, surfacing only when they were sure Erin would be back on the engineering deck and the rest of the crew was either asleep or changing shifts.

They stepped out of the elevator. They let out a harsh breath at the feel of eyes on them. That was another reason Vasquez had been avoiding the crew deck: the inevitable stares. Word of their teardown of Tsung had spread through the crew like wildfire, leaving those who didn’t spend time in the cargo bay incredibly wary. As annoying as it was, Vasquez couldn’t blame them.

It didn’t take Vasquez long to spot Erin. They froze for half a second at the sight of her. She still looked radiant, but even from the distance they were at, Vasquez could tell that she was tired. The smile she was giving Maggie was nowhere near as bright as it could be. It made their stomach twist with guilt. They were the reason her smile was so dull now.

Erin caught their eye. For a brief moment, there was a flare of something in her eyes: hope, wariness, happiness? Then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

Vasquez swallowed. They let out a harsh breath and made their way over to her.

“Ms. King,” they said as soon as they were close.

Erin raised an eyebrow at them. It made Vasquez’s stomach flip. “Lieutenant Vasquez,” she greeted coolly.

Vasquez fought back a flinch. They hated how tense and cool things had turned between them.

They cleared their throat. “I need you to come with me down to the cargo bay,” they said.

“I’m kind of in the middle of dinner,” she said, motioning to the tray in front of her.

Vasquez’s hand flexed unconsciously. “I know it sounds like a request, Ms. King, but I assure you, it isn’t,” they said. “You need to come with me. Now.”

The sooner they got her in a set of armour and armed, they sooner they would be able to breathe normally.

“Alright.” Erin sighed and stood up. “Looks like we’ll have to finish our interview later, Maggie.”

Maggie waved her away. “That’s fine, I’ve got a backlog of reports to get through anyway.” The look of annoyance that crossed her face towards the end of her statement made Vasquez’s lips twitch every so slightly into a small smile. Maggie’s hatred of paperwork was well-known throughout the Normandy.

“Shall we, Lieutenant?” Erin asked.

Vasquez nodded. “Let’s.”

-

By Alliance standards, the Normandy’s elevator was one of the faster ones in the fleet. By Vasquez’s current standards, though, it was slower than the main elevator on the Einstein. Logically, they knew that the trip from Deck 3 down to the cargo bay wasn’t any longer than a minute. With Erin standing next to them, though, the trip felt like it took an eternity. They kept their eyes on the thick steel doors and tried to block out the feel of Erin’s gaze burning against their skin.

By the time the elevator finally reached the cargo bay, the tension between the two of them was smothering. The second the doors to the elevator opened, Vasquez was out like a shot as they quickly made their way to their section of the armoury.

“Okay, I’m here. You want to tell me why exactly you pulled me away from my dinner and an interview I need for a piece that’s due in a week?” she asked.

Vasquez crouched down to open a chest by their workstation. “Alliance protocol is that all civilians wear armour in the field,” they said.

It was a lie. There was no such protocol on the books, mainly because the Alliance rarely had civilians on ships like the Normandy, but they doubted that Erin knew that. 

“You couldn’t have had Brainy send me a message about that?” 

Vasquez pulled out pieces of a hardsuit and glanced over their shoulder to see her walking up behind them. “Brainy was busy,” they said.

“He’s an AI. He’s literally the Normandy,” she pointed out.

Vasquez shrugged. “He said he was busy with Lieutenant Nal going over a flight plan,” they said. In hindsight, they had a feeling that Brainy was just making excuses so that Vasquez had no choice but to go talk to Erin themself. 

“You have my omni-tool information, Lieutenant. You could have contacted me that way, instead of cutting in the way that you did,” Erin said, a note of exasperation colouring her tone.

Vasquez looked away. “I wasn’t sure you’d look at the message,” they muttered. 

If Vasquez was Erin, they wouldn’t look at anything they went. 

“Vasquez…”

Vasquez cleared their throat, still refusing to look at her. “Anyway, here,” they thrust the hardsuit chestplate at her. “Colossus X.”

They said it so matter-of-factly to try and make it seem like it was just a standard issue set of armour, but Erin’s wide eyes told Vasquez that she knew it was far from standard issue. Still, from the way she turned the cuirass over in her hands, she seemed keen to play along and humour them. 

“You sure it’ll fit, Lieutenant?” she asked them.

Vasquez grabbed the backplate and walked behind her. “Yeah.” They placed it against her back and tapped one of the shoulders so that it would hook on. “You and the Commander are about the same size.”

“Wait, this is Alex’s armour?” 

Vasquez moved in front of her and took the cuirass from her. “Sort of,” they said, setting it against her chest and adjusting the autolocks. “It’s just a backup set.”

“If this is Alex’s armour then-”

“It’s fine,” Vasquez cut in. “Commander Danvers hasn’t even worn this set yet. She tends to stick with a set of Demolisher armour, anyway.”

Erin still looked uncertain. “The expense to personnel ratio seems kind of skewed here,” she said.

Vasquez shrugged. “Alex is a Council Spectre and an N7 Marine. If she wants top of the line gear, she gets top of the line gear,” they said.

Or more specifically, she would pay out of her own pocket to have her requisition officer get top of the line gear. From everything that Vasquez had seen, while Alex had access to the best equipment money could buy, neither the Council nor the Alliance were willing to foot the bill. 

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Mhm,” Vasquez hummed. They brought their omni-tool up and waved it over the armour.

They didn’t miss the raised eyebrow Erin sent their way. “What’s that for?” she asked.

Vasquez tapped their omni-tool. “Just double checking to make sure that the medigel dispensers and shield capacitors are up to snuff,” they replied. 

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Erin sounded curious.

Vasquez glanced at her. “The Colossus X M series wasn’t originally designed for Vanguards in mind, it was more for Infiltrators and Sentinels, specialties that used powers more than they did their fists,” they said. “The thought that you’d need Soldier-level shields and medigel dispensers for Vanguards didn’t really cross people’s minds until the L5n implants showed up on scene and Vanguards were suddenly shooting across the battlefield at the speed of sound.”

“You know a lot about this stuff,” she said. Her statement was accompanied by a faint small twitching its way across Erin’s lips. It made their heart flutter. They hadn’t seen her smile in what felt like forever.

Vasquez ducked their head. “I’m a requisitions officer,” they said, trying to downplay it. “It’s just my job.”

“You’re a person of many talents. It's impressive,” she said warmly.

“Thanks,” Vasquez coughed. They reached to the left and quickly grabbed an item off their workbench before things could grow awkward once again. “By the way, here.” They shoved it into Erin’s hands.

They watched Erin blink and tried not to wince at the look of confusion that crossed her face when it registered with her brain that she was now holding a gun. 

“I’m guessing this is part of Alliance protocol as well?” she asked wryly.

It wasn’t. Unless they were cleared for combat, civilians on Alliance vessels usually went unarmed on the ground in order to prevent unnecessary weapons discharges in the middle of a mission. But Erin was going to be dropped in an area that, up until several days previous, had been crawling with Cerberus troopers. They weren’t going to take her there without knowing she could protect herself, or at least give a hapless trooper half a moment of pause.

“Yeah,” Vasquez lied. “The gun itself isn’t really Alliance issue, but it’s better than nothing.”

The M-77 Paladin definitely _ wasn't _Alliance issue, but that was just another thing that Vasquez figured Erin didn’t need to know. It was small, easily concealed, had minimal recoil, but had enough power to drop a charging Krogan with just two well placed shots. 

“You know how to fire a gun, right?” They asked.

“I’m a reporter,” she said.

Well, that answered that question.

Vasquez tapped their omni-tool to pull up some targets then moved behind Erin. They took the hand holding the gun and moved it so that it and the gun were pointing towards the targets. Their breath caught in their throat at the small sound of surprise that Erin made.

Vasquez cleared their throat. “The vids all make it seem like you going for the head is the best option, but take it from me: in the middle of a firefight, unless you’re a sniper, going for the head’s a waste of time and a bullet,” they said.

“So what do you suggest?”

Vasquez brought the gun lower so that it was now pointing at the center of the target. 

“Aim for the center of mass.” They coaxed Erin’s hand and together, the two of them fired off three shots in quick succession. 

Vasquez let go of Erin’s hand and took a step back at the sound of the target’s shields fizzing out. “The Paladin’s got enough power behind it that you probably won’t need all three shots to make something or someone stop in its tracks,” they said.

“You make it sound like you’re expecting trouble, Lieutenant,” she said, a teasing note to her voice. Vasquez almost smiled at the sound of it. It was just another thing they had missed.

They looked back at the target. “We’re in the middle of a war, Ms. King,” they said coolly. “I’m always expecting trouble.”

Vasquez felt a pang of guilt almost as soon as the cold response left their mouth. Erin hadn't done anything to deserve that. 

“Right.” Whatever warmth had been in her voice was gone now, replaced by neutrality. It made Vasquez feel even worse. “So, are we done, Lieutenant? I have dinner and an interview to finish.”

“Yeah.” Vasquez pulled their omni-tool and input the signal that would undo Erin’s armour. “You’re free to go.”

Erin handed them the chest plate. She looked like she wanted to say more, then appeared to change her mind.

“Have a nice night, Lieutenant.” She was walking towards the elevator without so much a glance back at Vasquez before they could say anything in response.

Vasquez watched Erin enter the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, they let out a heavy sigh.

“Yeah,” they said to no one in particular, “you too.”

-

Vasquez checked over one of the Lancers stored in the Kodiak. It seemed like an unnecessary move, given that the mission brief and intel from Alliance Command both said that the base was free of hostiles.

They saw Erin out of the corner of their eye and stopped their weapons check to watch her enter their shuttle alongside the rest of Alex’s squad. Their eyes lingered on her armour, and on the pistol strapped to her hip.

“Vasquez.”

Vasquez looked to Alex. “Yeah, Commander?”

They bit back a yelp as her hand gripped their arm tight. “I need you at 100% for this,” she said. “Whatever’s going on between you and Erin? That cannot get in the way of the mission.”

Vasquez felt their jaw clench. “Ms. King and I are both adults, Commander,” they said, pulling their arm from her grip. “We’re fine.”

Alex didn’t look all that convinced. “Right.”

Vasquez let out an exasperated breath. “Commander, Alex, do you really think I would allow my personal life to jeopardise a mission?” they asked.

Alex didn’t respond. She just raised an eyebrow instead.

“I’ve been a marine long enough to know when to keep emotions out of a mission, Commander,” they defended. “I can be professional.”

They watched Alex’s face soften. “I know. This is just…” She sighed. “I’m going to hold you to that Lieutenant.”

Vasquez nodded. “Understood, ma’am.” They flipped the safety back on to the Lancer. “Shall we get going? Sooner we’re in the air, the sooner we get to come back.”

Alex laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

The two of them made their way into the shuttle. Alex took second chair while Vasquez settled themself into the pilots seat. Their seat.

Vasquez opened the Kodiak’s communications channel. “Kodiak to Normandy control,” they said.

Nia’s voice crackled through, _ “We read you Kodiak.” _

“We’ve finished the final checks to the Kodiak. Away team and additional package are on board. Are we clear to depart?”

_ “Board is green, you are clear to depart, Kodiak,” _Nia said.

“Roger that. See you in a few hours. Kodiak out.” 

Vasquez tapped the navigation panel to pull up their destination. Nia and Brainy had done a great job of orienting the Normandy so that all Vasquez would have to do is practically drop the Kodiak down to the base.

Vasquez keyed up the thrusters and counted to three. Then, the Kodiak was gone.

-

The landing zone was a mess.

Vasquez saw the twisted remains of shuttles and heavy mechs littering the area as they approached. It was obvious that the Cerberus forces embedded here had given it their all against the Alliance strike teams. In turn, the Alliance had given just as good as they had received, if the still-smoking wrecks of Alliance shuttles were anything to go by.

“Damn,” Alex whistled at the sight. “The 103rd hit this place hard.”

“Kind of makes you wonder exactly just what kind of research Cerberus was running here,” Vasquez muttered, finally bringing the shuttle down.

The landing was as graceful as Vasquez could make in a craft that handled like a brick. The Kodiak clunked to the ground, drawing grunts from all of the occupants.

Alex opened the hatch. “Alright,” she said. “Mission’s pretty straight forward: we go in, Erin gets footage, and we get out.”

Vasquez grabbed a Lancer. “And if there are any hostiles still left in this place?” they asked.

“Pacify with extreme prejudice,” was Alex’s blunt response. “Mags-”

“I’m running barrier support, I know,” Maggie said.

“Kara-”

“Fastball specials as needed,” Kara said, a cheeky grin on her face.

Vasquez saw the slightest hint of a smile rise to Alex’s lips at Kara’s cheek. They shook their head to hide their own grin. The Danvers sisters were a terrifying sight to behold on the battlefield.

“Don’t you all think that’s a bit much?” Erin spoke up, camera drone bobbing behind her as she exited the shuttle.

“It’s Cerberus,” Alex shrugged. “There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to preparing for them.”

“I mean, an orbital strike might be a bit much,” Maggie mentioned.

“Not really. Remember Project Overlord back in Aite?” Alex asked.

“Fair.”

Vasquez tuned them out as they looked around the landing zone. Something about it put them on edge, but they couldn’t put their finger on just what was making them so antsy.

They walked over to Kara. “It’s not just me, right?” they muttered under their breath. “Something’s off.”

“It’s definitely not just you.” Kara flicked a glance towards the base’s main structure. To anyone else, it was just a casual move, but Vasquez had served alongside the second Alliance Spectre to know that she was examining every inch of it with her powers. 

“See anything?” Vasquez asked quietly, half joking.

“No, I don’t.”

That was a problem. “Shit.” Vasquez’s palms started to sweat. 

“Commander,” Kara spoke up.

Alex’s head snapped to her sister. “What’s up, LC?” she asked, immediately all business.

“I don’t see anything inside.”

Vasquez watched Alex’s jaw clench. “Alright, new plan: we keep our eyes peeled while Erin gets footage and shoot anything that moves that’s not the five of us, clear?” she asked.

“Clear.” “Roger that,” both Vasquez and Maggie confirmed at the same time.

Vasquez didn’t miss the way that Erin frowned. 

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” she said.

“If we’re lucky, it’s nothing,” Vasquez said. 

She raised an eyebrow at them. “And if we’re not?”

“Then you’re gonna have some great footage,” Alex said grimly.

-

Cerberus bases weren’t that foreign to Vasquez; as Alex’s shuttle pilot, they had been in their fair share. None of those bases, though, could have prepared Vasquez for the sight that greeted them once they stepped inside the one on Trident.

If the outside had been a battlefield, the inside was a complete bloodbath.

Erin let out a soft gasp just as Maggie hissed out, “Jesus Christ.”

Vasquez’s grip tightened on their rifle as they surveyed the carnage around them. There were dead Cerberus operatives _ everywhere _. 

They crouched down to the nearest one. “How long did the 103rd fight these guys?” they asked.

“Reports say it was a three day firefight,” Alex replied. “This...this does not look like the aftermath of a three day firefight, though. At all.”

That was an understatement. This was more a massacre than the result of a firefight. Some bodies did look to be casualties from the battle days earlier, with the bodies themselves appearing as though they had done their best to be bullet sponges. Others looked like they had just been ripped apart.

“The 103rd didn’t do this,” they muttered. 

The 103rd was good, but they weren’t that good. Nor were they blood thirsty enough to savage their way through a force like this.

“Kara,” Alex started.

“Way ahead of you, Alex.” There was a hum from Kara, followed by frowned. That put Vasquez more on edge than the dead bodies around them. “There’s a lab about 500 meters from our position. It’s, shit it’s bad.”

“Any survivors?” Maggie asked.

“No, thank Rao.” It sounded like such a cold thing to say, but as Vasquez looked at the carnage around them, they considered a lack of survivors to be a blessing. 

“We’ll head that way, then. Keep your guard up, all of you,” Alex ordered. “Vasquez, Maggie, protective detail around Erin.”

“Aye, aye.” Vasquez didn’t even care that things between them and Erin were still awkward. This place was turning into a nightmare and they were going to do their best to make sure that Erin got out safe. They took their position by her side.

Their approach the lab was marked only by the sound of boots against concrete and the soft hum of Erin’s camera drone. 

Erin broke the silence. “I take it that it’s normally not this bad,” she whispered.

“No, it’s not,” Vasquez said quietly. Even when Alex would tear her way through a Cerberus base, it never looked anything like this. 

Alex’s hand came up in a closed fist, signalling for them all to stop. Vasquez moved to cover Erin from the front while Maggie took up her position behind the reporter, skin already glowing with biotics.

Kara went in first. When everything remained silent and she didn’t come flying out with a hail of bullets behind her, the rest of them went in to find her staring at a lab table.

It took Vasquez a minute to figure out just what it was that kept Kara’s attention on the table. Then the table’s contents finally registered with their brain. 

There was half a man strapped to it. From the waist down, his body was a mess of putrid, gangrenous flesh. The smell alone was enough to have Vasquez nauseous. What really sent their stomach rolling was his face, or what was left of it at least. The telltale lines of blue running down his face told everyone in the room that the cables shoved into the back of his skull had contained Reaper tech at some point. 

“Oh god,” Erin murmured. 

“Mags, find out just what the fuck Cerberus thought they were doing to this poor bastard,” Alex said, eyes still on the mercifully-dead man.

“I’d heard reports that Cerberus was implanting their soldiers with tech, but this, this goes beyond anything could ever have nightmares about,” Erin said.

“No kidding.” Vasquez had seen the aftermath of Reaper tech-infused Cerberus soldiers: faces that were barely two steps away from those one would see on husks, death because the tech in their heads wouldn’t let them retreat, and horrific injuries because the tech would keep them fighting until there was nothing left. The thing on the table seemed like such a step back from what they had seen, though.

“From what I can get from the few records that are still left, Alex, it looks like it was a new project,” Maggie said. 

Vasquez didn’t have to be looking at Alex to know that she had a deep frown on her face.

“What kind of project?” she demanded.

“Give me a sec.” Maggie tapped away at the interface. “Okay, it’s mostly been scrubbed, but I’ve managed to get something called Project Phoenix.”

The irony of the project name didn’t escape Vasquez. “Does Lex Luthor really think that anything would rise from _ that _?” they asked.

“You’re confusing him with someone who thinks like a rational human being, Vas,” Alex said absently.

“It gets worse,” Maggie said.

Alex sighed. “Of course it does. Hit me with it, Mags,” she said.

“It’s new in the sense that this is the second iteration of it. This is just them trying to find a better way to control their biotic troopers.”

A better way? Vasquez didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up at the revelation. If Lex Luthor considered this to be a better way, they didn’t want to know that he considered to be a worse way.

Erin seemed to have similar thoughts, because Vasquez heard her gag. It was the only warning any of them had before she rushed to the doorway and retched. Vasquez didn’t wait for Alex to order them after her; they were by her side within moments.

They rubbed her back as she coughed. 

“Sorry,” she apologised.

“It’s fine,” Vasquez said. “Honestly, I’m feeling a little sick myself.”

Erin let out a hoarse laugh. “Yeah, but you’re not the one who just threw up,” she pointed out.

Vasquez gave her a small half smile and kept rubbing her back in a comforting manner. “If you hadn’t, I would’ve and it would’ve looked a lot worse if I was the first person in the squad to toss their cookies on the ground,” they said.

For a brief moment, Erin returned their smile. It made Vasquez feel warm, like things were back to the way they had been before Vasquez had mucked everything up. It didn’t last long, though. The clip of Alex’s boots had reality reasserting itself.

The moment Alex stepped out into the hall, Vasquez was pulling away from Erin like they had been burned.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” she said. “Erin, do you have enough footage?”

Erin wiped her mouth and straightened. “I do,” she confirmed. “I can supplement it with the information from the console, if I can have access, of course.”

“Granted,” Alex said without hesitation. She glanced at Vasquez. “Vasquez, radio the Normandy and have them contact Fifth Fleet. This place needs to get wiped off the planet, yesterday.”

“Roger that, Commander.”

Alex glanced back to the lab. By now, Kara and Maggie were exiting it as well. From the way Kara’s hands were flexing, Vasquez had a feeling there had been more disturbing details on the console.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said.

-

_ “It’s that bad down there?” _Nia asked.

“Yeah. The shit down here is, it’s bad, even by Cerberus standards,” Vasquez replied.

_ “Like on a scale of one to ten, though?” _

“Alex mentioned something about it being worse than Aite?” Vasquez had no idea what it meant when Alex said it, but it had to have been bad given how just the mention of it had made Maggie pale.

_ “Shit. Yeah, that’s bad. Alright, I’ll contact Fifth Fleet. Normandy out.” _

“Roger that.” Vasquez cut the comm channel and glanced at Alex. “Nia’s gonna send off an emergency hail to Fifth Fleet. Hopefully, Admiral Grant can send a cruiser or something to turn this place to ash.”

“Good.” Alex ran a hand through her hair. “God, just when I thought Cerberus couldn’t get any worse after Project Overlord…”

“What was it, Project Overlord?” Vasquez asked curiously.

Alex’s eyes darkened with anger. Even though the anger obviously wasn’t directed at them, it still made them take a step back nonetheless.

“It was man trying to reach beyond his own grasp,” she said darkly. “They took a kid and strapped him into a VI against his will in the hopes that it would let them control the geth.”

Vasquez felt ill all over again. “Something tells me it didn’t work out the way that they hoped.”

“Nope,” Alex said and popped the p. “It overwhelmed the kid and killed everyone but his brother.”

Vasquez blinked. “Brother?” They weren’t sure they had heard her correctly.

“Yeah.” A sardonic grin. “His brother was the one that strapped him into the VI, and then tried to convince me to let him keep the kid in there after we took the VI down.”

“...is he still breathing?” 

Alex shrugged. “Maybe. He was when I left. I wasn’t going to kill him in front of his little brother. Kid had already been through enough trauma.” A thoughtful look. “I did break his face with my shotgun though.”

“Nice.”

Alex grinned. “It was pretty satisfying,” she admitted. 

“Alex,” Maggie cut in. “Me and Kara have finished the perimeter sweep.”

“Still nothing?” Alex asked.

“Unfortunately.” Maggie’s voice was grim. In most circumstances, finding nothing was a good sign. But after everything they had all seen during the last hour, it was just another reason to be on edge and another sign that they needed to get off planet. Now.

“Damn.” Alex looked back to Vasquez. “Vas, can you-”

“I’ll go start the Kodiak up now, Commander,” Vasquez nodded.

They turned on their heel and started towards the Kodiak. They made it about three steps before they felt someone shove them from behind, hard. It sent them stumbling forward. Vasquez barely managed to keep themself from hitting the ground. 

“What the actual fuck!” they growled out. 

They spun around to demand an answer from whoever had shoved them, only to find Erin standing there. There was an expression of fear on her face that made their brow furrow. They opened their mouth to ask what was wrong.

A shot rang out.


	6. Déjà Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez finally reaches their breaking point.

**“ERIN!!”**

Vasquez was by Erin’s side the second her body hit the ground. The sound of a biotic explosion and the dying scream of a Nemesis sniper being ripped apart hit the air, but Vasquez paid it no heed. Their attention was solely on the woman on the ground.

“Erin,” Vasquez said. They couldn’t keep the desperation out of their voice. “Erin, stay with me!”

Erin let out a choked noise. It only increased Vasquez’s panic. There was so much blood. The Nemesis’ shot had ripped right through her shields and punched a hole in her chest plate.

“Shit shit shit!”

They could hear the hiss of the armour’s medigel dispensers kicking in, but there was so much damage that Vasquez wasn’t sure if it was making a difference. They pressed down to apply pressure in an attempt to stymie the bleeding, drawing a pained groan from Erin.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” they rushed out. 

They glanced over their shoulder when they felt a hand on it. Alex was behind them. 

“Go get the shuttle!” she ordered.

“What? No!” Erin was bleeding out. They couldn’t just leave her.

Alex’s grip tightened on their shoulder pads. Vasquez barely had time to brace themself before they found themself being yanked away from Erin.

“What are you doing?!” they shouted. They couldn’t even get back to Erin thanks to Kara’s hand joining Alex’s in holding them away.

“Radio the Normandy and get the Kodiak! I’ve got Erin!” Alex retorted.

Vasquez hesitated. Alex didn’t seem to be having it, because she nodded to Kara. Before Vasquez could blink, Kara threw them in the direction of the Kodiak.

Vasquez landed in a heap right by the Kodiak. They quickly pushed themself up and looked back to see Alex triaging Erin. They took a deep breath and climbed into the shuttle.

The second their butt hit the pilot’s seat, a sense of calm washed over them. There was still an undercurrent of panic humming beneath their skin, but they pushed past it as they fell into the familiar routine of starting the shuttle up. They opened the comm channel to the Normandy.

“Normandy, this is Kodiak, can you read me?” As calm as they were now, Vasquez still had to fight to keep their voice steady.

_ “We read you Kodiak. What’s-” _

Vasquez cut Nia off, “We need an emergency evac. Erin’s been shot.” 

There was the sound of a sonic boom. They glanced behind them to see a flash of blue before Alex, Maggie, and Kara suddenly appeared inside the shuttle, courtesy of a biotic charge from Alex. Erin was wreathed in blue thanks to a stasis field from Maggie. The expression of grim determination on Alex’s face was the only sign that Vasquez had that Erin was still alive.

_ “Roger that, Kodiak. We’ll be in position in three minutes for the evac,”  _ Nia said.

Vasquez shut the doors. “Negative, set for an intercept course!” they ordered.

There was a beat.  _ “Are you sure?”  _ Nia sounded stunned by the order.

“Just do it, Nia!” Vasquez barked.

_ “...alright. Just don’t be late, Vas.” _

Vasquez flicked a glance back to the crew bay as they brought the shuttle up. Alex was still working. They couldn’t hear a word she was saying over the roar the shuttle made as they brought it into the air.

“Vasquez…” they heard Maggie say in warning.

Vasquez entered the projected coordinates for the intercept. “I got this.”

-

The Kodiak, on principle, was not a craft that was ever meant to maneuver like a fighter. Sure, it had an eezo core that was substantial for a vehicle the Kodiak’s size and sure, it could take a few hits before it turned into the proverbial “three-million-credit coffin,” but it was called the “Combat Cockroach” for a reason. For most pilots, the small vertical thrusters had just enough power for direction control and little else.

Vasquez wasn’t most pilots. They had spent most of their career flying fighters and knew a few tricks that other pilots didn’t. Tricks, like how to overcome the limitations created by the Kodiak’s build.

Their fingers were a blur as they set about overriding the safety protocols, redirecting energy from the mass effect field generators and shields to the thrusters and the FTL drive. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Kara demanded.

Vasquez punched in the final set of override codes. “Making sure we’re on time,” they said.

Every second they spent in space was another second Erin lost. They had to get to the intercept point as soon as possible, and if it meant they were going to push the Kodiak to its absolute limits, then so be it.

“You’re throwing us at the Normandy at FTL!” Kara protested.

Vasquez kept their eyes on the numerous holographic read outs in front of them. “We’ll be fine, LC,” they said.

They would deal with the fallout after Erin was back on the Normandy in the medbay.

“Alex-” Kara tried.

“Kara, believe me, I share your reservations, but right now, we need to get back to the Normandy ASAP.” Alex’s voice was tight. “Dammit! Mags, get me another medigel pack!”

Vasquez felt their stomach twist Alex’s words. Before they could demand an update on Erin’s condition, alarms started going off. They quickly flipped through the readouts to find the one that was going off. Despite the situation, they finally cracked a grin; the Normandy had arrived.

“Prepare for intercept in 3, 2...1!”

Vasquez immediately punched it as the Normandy flashed into existence.

-

Vasquez barely had time to re-engage the mass effect field generators and land the shuttle inside the cargo bay before the Kodiak’s hatches were thrown open. The doors had yet to fully rise up before Doctor Hamilton was inside helping Alex with Erin. 

“Status?” she asked.

Vasquez glanced over their shoulder to see Alex throwing another barrier around Erin as she and Doctor Hamilton quickly removed Erin from the shuttle.

“Still critical,” Alex relayed. “Took a high powered rifle shot from a Nemesis, punched right through her shields and armour. She’s gone through three medigel packs on top of the dispensers.”

“Doctor Henderson, get back up to the medbay and have Brainy prepare for an immediate operation,” Doctor Hamilton ordered.

“Roger that,” Doctor Henderson confirmed. 

“I’m gonna need-” Alex started.

“Scrubs will be at the ready, Commander.”

“Thanks.”

Vasquez dropped out of the shuttle just in time to watch Alex and Doctor Hamilton rush Erin towards the elevator. Maggie was quick on their heels, still providing additional barrier support. Kara brought up the rear with arms full of the medical equipment that Hamilton had brought down, leaving Vasquez standing by the Kodiak.

It was only after the elevator doors shut that Vasquez finally started to move. They did an about face to face the shuttle and blinked at the sight that greeted them when they looked inside it. There was a large, dark red puddle in the middle of the floor. 

Vasquez stared at it. It took them a few moments to realise that the dark red puddle was Erin’s blood. When it finally registered, Vasquez felt their stomach turn. Outside of the Citadel Coup, they hadn’t seen that much blood in a single location; space combat was a relatively bloodless event, unless you were the one getting blown to bits. There hadn’t even been this much blood when Vanessa had died, but then again, there hadn’t been anything left of her either. No body, no bones, no blood. Nothing.

Vasquez couldn’t take their eyes away from the drying pool of Erin’s blood. A crushing weight hit them hard in the chest right as a dull roar started up in their ears.

“Shit, Vas!”

They didn’t even realise they were starting to hyperventilate until their knees met the cargo deck.

“Hey, stay with me!” Mon-el’s voice. 

Vasquez couldn’t breathe. The panic that they had managed to shove down during the evac had finally come back up with a vengeance. It was choking.

They felt Mon-el’s hand on their back. It was the only warning Vasquez had before he hauled them up. 

“C’mon, I got you,” he grunted.

He carried them towards his area of the cargo bay and set them down in the corner of a recent weapon’s shipment. 

“Breathe, Vas,” he said. 

It was easier said than done. Vasquez still couldn’t move their attention from the shuttle. All they could focus on was the pool of blood that they still had to clean up.

Mon-el finally seemed to catch on to what was driving them into a panic because he stepped in front of them, blocking their view of the shuttle. Half a second later, he pushed Vasquez down so that their head was between their legs.

“Tsung!” they heard him shout. “You and your team are on clean up duty! I want that shuttle looking like it just came off the line!”

He knelt in front of them. “Breathe with me, Vas, c’mon, in-”

Vasquez took in a shuddering breath.

“And out.” Vasquez exhaled and started coughing. “Ha, that’s better than nothing.”

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. No, keep your head down, the shuttle’s fine, Tsung won’t destroy it.

Vasquez had no idea how long it went on for. Eventually, Mon-el let them sit up. His concerned face continued to block their view of the Kodiak, which by now had been swarmed by Tsung and his team. 

“You good?” he asked.

Yes. No. Maybe.

“No,” they admitted, surprising both themself and Mon-el. “I’m not.”

Vasquez couldn’t get the image of Erin falling out of their head. They could see the shot ripping through her shields, the way that her armour warped and failed from the sheer energy behind it, the blood that flowed through their hands despite the medigel dispensers having kicked in. 

“This, this is like, this is like Vanessa all over again,” they whispered. 

It was the same feeling of desperation and helplessness, the kind that left them feeling numb and gutted all at the same time. 

“Erin was alive when they took her up, Vas,” Mon-el pointed out. “She’s not dead-”

“Yet,” Vasquez snapped. “She’s not dead  _ yet _ . You weren’t down there, Mike. You didn’t see what happened! You didn’t see how the shot punched right through and-”

“Hey, hey! Easy!” Mon-el’s hands wrapped around Vasquez’s shoulders, as if to keep the pilot from spiralling. “Okay, yeah, you’re right, I wasn’t down there. But Erin, she’s strong, you know that! She’s stationed on the Normandy for god’s sake!”

Vasquez blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?” they asked.

Mon-el raised a hand and starting ticking his fingers off. “Olsen took a rocket to the face and survived,” he said. “Kara survived getting brained by that Cerberus bot Brainy now calls a body  _ and  _ being on the end of Alex’s gun, I survived flying the Kodiak into a Cerberus shuttle.”

He lowered his hand. “The Normandy’s made up of people who’ve survived some insane shit, Vas. Erin, she’ll make it.”

Vasquez swallowed. “You can’t know that.” And they knew better than to wish for it. The universe was rarely kind towards those who wished for their loved ones to remain unscathed.

Mon-el gave them a lopsided grin. “Maybe,” he conceded. “Look, I’m not a betting man, but if I was, well, let’s just say that I’d bet on Erin make it out of this because serving on the Normandy’s gotta give someone an insane amount of luck with all the shit this ship goes through.”

Despite themself, Vasquez returned the grin only for it to fade almost as quickly as it appeared. 

“What if Erin dies?” It was barely a whisper.

“She’s not gonna die, Vas. She’s not. She’s got the Commander, Doctor Hamilton, and Doctor Henderson all working on her,” Mon-el said. “She’s not gonna die.”

“Yeah.” Vasquez let their head loll back and thunk softly against the crates. “Yeah.”

They had already lost Vanessa. They couldn’t lose Erin. 

-

The sound of the elevator arriving in the cargo bay drew everyone’s attention to it, including Vasquez’s. 

They looked up from the Lancer they were cleaning to see Alex walk out. The redheaded biotic looked exhausted, more so than she usually did. 

“Lieutenant Vasquez,” she greeted as soon as she was within range. 

“Commander,” they returned, voice neutral. “How’s-”

“Erin made it through the surgery,” Alex said. “She’ll be okay.”

Vasquez stared. They felt Mon-el remove the rifle from their grip.

Alex tilted her head. “Vasquez, did you hear what I just said?” she asked.

Vasquez continued to stare at the Commander. Their hand flexed unconsciously. Then, they swung.

The sound their fist made against Alex’s face echoed throughout the cargo bay. Everything went silent at the sound. Vasquez froze, arm still outstretched.

Alex spit blood and turned back to face Vasquez. She raised an eyebrow at them, but otherwise had no reaction to the fact that they had just punched her in the face.

Her lack of reaction only made them angrier.

They threw another punch. “I told you!” they snarled. “I told you this could happen! I warned you about having her down there and look what happened!”

Alex still said nothing. She blocked each punch they sent her way, though occasionally she let one skim her.

Vazquez’s jaw was tight. 

Swing towards Alex’s jaw.

The sound of Erin’s shields failing. 

Block. 

A punch towards Alex stomach.

Erin falling.

Block.

Vasquez didn’t even realise they had started crying until their fist slammed into the bulkhead. 

The sudden shock of pain stopped them cold. They bit back a swear and blinked. They had Alex up against the wall, their fist right next to her head. She was giving them a cool look.

“Are you done?” She asked.

Vasquez blinked again, this time at the question. “I...” they looked at their hand, still planted against the wall. “Yeah. I’m, I’m done.”

“Good.” Before they could react, Alex’s biotics flared and sent them flying. 

Vasquez crashed back against the cargo deck with groan. 

“Hey!” They heard Mon-el shout in indignation.

Vasquez pushed themself up into a sitting position with a grunt. They didn’t get very far before Alex was on top of them. A glowing blue fist smashed into their face a second later. Despite the pain that followed it, they knew Alex had held back based off the fact that they were still alive after it connected.

Alex’s hand fisted their uniform top and hauled them close.

“Let me make something very clear to you, Lieutenant,” she said calmly, “if you weren’t the best goddamn pilot in the fleet, I’d throw your ass in the brig right now.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, “But I get what you’re going through.” A finger jabbed hard into their chest. “And  _ that _ , Lieutenant, is why you get to keep your rank and why you’re not a smear across the cargo deck.”

Vasquez swallowed. They had fully expected Alex to kill them after they had punched her. From how empty the cargo bay was, the rest of the crew that was normally stationed down here had thought the same thing.

Alex let go of Vasquez’s shirt, letting them drop back down against the deck with a soft thud. “For what it’s worth,” she said, standing up, “you saved her life.”

Vasquez blinked. “What?” 

“The armour you put her in,” Alex clarified. “Between the extra shielding and the medigel dispensers, if she’d been wearing anything else, there’s a good chance she wouldn’t have survived the flight back to the Normandy.”

Vasquez’s breath caught in their throat.

Alex made her way to the elevator, but paused before she got in and glanced over her shoulder. “You saved her life, Lieutenant. Erin made it back because of  _ you _ .” 

Vasquez closed their eyes and brought an arm over their face to cover them. They waited until the elevator clanged shut. Then, they let out a shuddering breath.

They heard Mon-el’s boots against the deck. “Vas…”

Despite their best efforts, a choked sob left Vasquez’s throat.

Mon-el helped them sit up. Vasquez wrapped their arms around his shoulders and gripped the back of his shirt tightly.

“She’s alive,” they whispered. Tears started to roll down their face. “She’s alive.” It came out as a sob.

They had made it back in time and Erin was alive. There had been blood in their shuttle and on their armour. There was a body up in the medbay that was healing, that was  _ alive _ . Erin was alive. 

“Yeah, dude, she’s alive,” Mon-el said, as if he had picked up on their train of thought. “You heard the Commander, Erin’s gonna be okay.”

Vasquez’s grip tightened even further, so much so that they were certain that their blunt nails had to be digging into Mon-el’s back. If it was bothering him, he didn’t let it show. 

Erin was going to be okay. She  _ was  _ okay. They had made it in time. 

Another choked sob. Then Vasquez broke down completely. 

Their sound of their tears echoed throughout the cargo bay.


	7. Starting Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The confession we've all been waiting for.

Vasquez watched Erin’s chest rise and fall.

It was a sight that had the knot in their chest loosening ever so slightly. It didn’t undo itself completely, given that Erin was still unconscious, but the fact that she was breathing on her own was enough to finally put some air back into their own lungs.

Vasquez noted a stray curl that had fallen just above Erin’s eyes. They instinctively flexed their fingers and reached out to brush it back, only to flinch as pain shot through their hand. They sat back and grimaced, bringing their other hand to rub at the cast their right hand was currently in. Not for the first time that night did they curse Alex and her order that they be given minimal medi-gel treatment.

-

“Minimal medi-gel, Amelia,” Alex had ordered. “I want them on light duty for at least the next week.”

Vasquez had immediately started to sputter. “Commander-!”

“Minimal medi-gel, aircast, and light duty, or the brig. It’s your choice, Lieutenant.” 

Vasquez had swallowed. Alex’s tone at the time had brooked no argument, and they knew better than to push it any further than they already had. After all, they had punched her in the face and lived to tell the tale.

“Look on the bright side, Lieutenant, you’ll get to spend the night in the medbay,” Dr. Hamilton had said, once Alex had left.

Vasquez glanced over to where Erin was laying. “You and I have very different ideas of what constitutes a bright side, doc,” they muttered.

“Honestly, I think a night in here will do you some good.”

Vasquez hadn’t been able to take their eyes off of Erin. 

“Yeah.”

-

Vasquez ran their uninjured hand through their hair. “I was an idiot,” they started. “Or I guess I was a coward. Or…” 

They cut themself off and let out a harsh breath. “No, no guessing. I was both.”

There was no response, not that they had expected one.

Vasquez ducked their head. “You know, that day where you suggested I go watch ships? That was the first time I’d gone and done that since Vanessa died,” they said. “I’d kept telling myself that I was just too busy to go do it, or that there wasn’t any point to it, but, I think I was too scared to go. Because that had been mine and Vanessa’s thing and the thought of doing that without her? It would have just been another confirmation that she’s gone. That she’s not coming back. Ever.”

Vasquez swallowed. “I know she’s not coming back,” they said quickly. “I’ve always known that. I just, I don’t think I accepted it, no, I  _ know  _ I didn’t. I know because being around you? Being around you makes me feel awake. Makes me feel alive. Even the first night, we fell into things so easily and that? That, god, that scared me more than you could ever imagine.”

“That kiss down in the cargo bay, that wasn’t a mistake. I’m sorry for making you think that I thought it was. I mean, I don’t actually know if you thought that, but Mon-el definitely implied that’s what I did, so, yeah.” Another sigh. “Me running away that night was entirely on me. I was...ashamed. Not because of anything you did! Never because of anything you did. But because-”

Vasquez cut themself off to chuckle lightly, “Because I had just told you that I hadn’t moved on from Vanessa and then there I was kissing you.” 

They bit their lip. “I really liked kissing you,” they admitted, “but in that moment, it didn’t matter how much I liked it or how nice your lips tasted. Once it registered I was kissing you, I felt like I had gone and used you as a replacement. And that’s not what you are. You’re not a replacement for Vanessa. There’s, there’s no replacing her and I know that. I know that, I just…” 

Vasquez reached out with their good hand and took a still-unconscious Erin’s hand in theirs. “What I’m trying to say is that I, I really want you to wake up. Please. Because I really like you and I-I’m kinda terrified by that! But I-I’m also kinda okay with that if it means I can be terrified next to you. With you.”

Their grip tightened ever so slightly around her hand.

“You know, I haven’t done this in what feels like forever so maybe we could try? Maybe we could…” They trailed off and sighed. “I just, I need you to wake up Erin, please. I want to try whatever this is with you. Not because of some promise I made to Vanessa, but because I miss  _ you _ . I miss being around you. I miss your smile and I, god, I just want to make you smile.” 

The medbay doors hissed open. 

Vasquez glanced back to see Dr. Hamilton walk in. She had a sympathetic look on her face.

“Sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant, but I’m afraid visiting hours are up for the night,” she said.

“I’m guessing I won’t be able to convince you to let me stay another night in the medbay?” they asked, only half teasing. 

Amelia shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Not even for a bottle or two of Serrice Ice Brandy?”

Amelia laughed. “I have to say, I’ve never had someone try to bribe me to  _ stay _ in my medbay,” she said.

“Sooo…” Vasquez drawled out.

“Answers still no.” She jerked a thumb towards the doors. “Out with you.”

Vasquez sighed. “Oh, fine.” They flicked their gaze back to Erin. They squeezed her hand then stood. “If you or Dr. Henderson need anything for Erin, doc-”

“I’ll make sure Brainy lets you know,” Amelia finished. “Now, g’wan. Go sleep in a real bed. Or whatever’s down in the cargo bay.”

“I sleep in my shuttle,” Vasquez said dryly.

“Of course you do.”

-

“Look who finally decided to come back down and join the rest of us grunts,” was the first thing Vasquez heard once the elevator doors opened to the cargo bay.

They saw Mon-el leaning against their console with a grin on his face that barely hid the concern in his eyes.

“Dr. Hamilton kicked me out,” they said, in lieu of an actual greeting.

“You’ve got to be the only Alliance Marine I know of that’s actually disappointed to be told to get out of the medbay, dude,” he said.

Vasquez shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s a little different this time around,” they said.

Mon-el seemed to sober almost immediately. “Yeah.” A beat. “How’re you holding up?” 

“I’ll be better when Erin wakes up,” they said truthfully.

Mon-el nodded. “How’s the hand?” he asked.

At his question, Vasquez had to fight to resist the urge to flex their fingers. “Broken in two places,” they said. “Not nearly as bad as I thought it could’ve been.”

“No kidding. I’ve seen the Commander put her fist through the chest plates of Cerberus troopers,” he said.

Vasquez felt themself grow slightly nauseous at the mental image. “Gee, thanks for that lovely image right before bed, Mike,” they said dryly.

He had the decency to look a properly abashed. “Oops.” They didn’t miss the way he eyed their hand. “You gonna be okay to get up into the shuttle?”

“Yeah.” Vasquez nodded. “Kodiak’s low enough that I can just jump to get in.”

“Okay. Just holler if you need anything, yeah?”

Vasquez chuckled. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I can handle getting into my own shuttle, Mon-el.”

“Uh huh.” He didn’t look that convinced. “Well, the offer’s open. Just yell.”

Vasquez waited for him to go back to his side of the cargo bay before they made their way over to the Kodiak. They opened the hatch then used their good hand to haul themself into the shuttle. 

Once inside, they paused. Tsung and his squad had done a good job of cleaning the shuttle. It looked as though nothing major had happened in the shuttle, no trace that it had been used to rush a badly wounded Erin back to the Normandy just two days prior. In a way, the lack of evidence was a relief for Vasquez; it meant they could sleep in the shuttle without risking another panic attack.

Vasquez sat down on the bench and laid back. They closed their eyes and tried to get their mind to focus on the memory of Erin’s chest rising and falling back in the medbay. 

The knot in their chest loosened just a bit more.

-

“Where you headed?” Mon-el asked them the next morning.

Vasquez held up a thin stack of datapads with their good hand. “Medbay to get some work done,” they said. “Alex has me on light duty for at least the next week, so I figured I head up to the crew deck so that I’m not tempted to work on the shuttle.”

“...can you even work on the shuttle with one hand?” he asked.

“I mean, I probably  _ could _ ,” they said, “but I also punched my commanding officer in the face three days ago so I’m not about to test her.”

They saw him wince. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair. Oh! So does that mean you’ll-”

“Do your own paperwork, Mr. Matthews,” Vasquez interrupted. “I’ve got enough to deal with.”

“Oh come on!”

Vasquez laughed all the way to the elevator.

-

“Didn’t I just tell you to get out of the medbay to get some sleep?” Amelia asked as soon as Vasquez stepped into the medbay.

“You did,” Vasquez confirmed, “and I did. It’s now a new day.”

“Uh huh.” 

Vasquez held up the stack of datapads they needed to work on. “I swear, I’m just here to work.”

“And you can’t do that elsewhere because…?”

“Because this is a warship and finding a quiet space to get reports done is like trying to pull teeth from a rabid varren using tweezers?” Vasquez said.

Amelia chuckled. “Alright, I supposed you can stay then. But,” she added, pointing to them, “you try and cause any trouble and you’re out, understand, Lieutenant?”

Vasquez gave her a mock salute. “Aye, aye, doc.”

They walked over and took the seat that had become  _ theirs _ over the last few days. They look at Erin. She was still asleep, but she looked much better than she had compared to the previous days. Her skin finally had some colour returning to it. It was a welcome change from the grey pallor that had been present for what seemed like forever.

Vasquez barely had time to glance over Tsung’s latest maintenance report when a soft groan reached their ears. Their head snapped back towards Erin.

“Mmmph…”

“Erin!” they yelped, scrambling to their feet.

Erin blinked blearily, obviously still weighed down by the drugs in her system. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a dry rasp.

“Hang on, I think Dr. Hamilton keeps a water jug in here somewhere,” Vasquez said.

They put their datapads down at the foot of the bed and hurried over to where they had last seen the container in question.

“Alright, cup, water,” Vasquez muttered to themself. They put the jug down and paused. “Oh, shit, straw! She’s gonna need a straw…”

They walked back to Erin. They handed her the cup and tried to ignore how their cheeks heated up at the fond look she gave them.

“Slowly,” Vasquez cautioned.

Erin hummed tiredly, then laid back once she finished drinking. As exhausted as she still must have been, she was still absolutely breathtaking. Vasquez couldn’t stop staring, and it had to be obvious, because Erin chuckled.

Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing, I just, I thought I’d dreamed it,” she muttered.

“Dreamed what?” Vasquez was confused.

“Your soliloquy.” Vasquez felt their face flame. It grew even hotter half a second later at the warm grin she sent their way. “I have to say, Mx. Vasquez, it certainly took you long enough.”

“You, you-” Vasquez stammered. “You heard me?!”

“Just bits and pieces. I was kind of in and out for most of it. But,” her grin turned cheeky, doing nothing to stop Vasquez’s stomach from twisting itself into knots, “I definitely heard the part where you said my lips tasted nice.”

Vasquez dropped their head into their hands. “Oh, god,” they groaned.

Erin’s laughed filled the medbay. Despite their embarrassment, Vasquez couldn’t stop the smile that rose to their lips at the sound. They had missed that sound. Unfortunately, Erin’s laughter didn’t last long before she broke off into a series of coughs followed by pained wheezing. 

“Shit!” Vasquez rushed to help her sit up. “Easy. Slow breaths, I’ve got you.”

With their free hand, they fluffed the pillow behind her then helped her settle back down against it. 

“You know,” Erin said, once she had managed to get her breathing back under control, “I think we should start over.”

Vasquez’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Erin smiled. It was small and tired, but it was probably the best thing they had seen in ages. She held out the hand that didn’t have the IV in it.

“Erin King, Alliance News Network,” she said.

Vasquez smiled and took her hand gently. “Lieutenant Vasquez, Normandy shuttle pilot.”

“Just Vasquez?” she asked.

“Just Vasquez.” A beat. “Would you, would you like to join me for dinner, once you’re out of here?”

Erin brought their hand to her lips and brushed them across Vasquez’s knuckles. The feel of her lips against their skin sent tingles up their arm.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Vasquez smile widened. On impulse, they leaned in and kissed her. They had every intention of keeping it soft so that Erin wouldn’t strain herself, but she seemed to have other ideas because her hand wound its way into their hair and pulled them even closer. 

Vasquez’s eyes slipped shut. This time, there was no guilt. Erin’s lips were still soft and even though she had been in the medbay for the past few days, they still had the sweet aftertaste of Akantha. 

The two of them eventually broke apart, both of their chests heaving. They stared at each other, silent. 

Vasquez was the first one to break it. “Wow,” they whispered.

Erin raised an eyebrow. “Still taste good?” she asked.

Vasquez groaned and dropped their head to her shoulder. “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

They felt Erin press a kiss to their hair. “No, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Vasquez looked up, then kissed her again, soft and slow.

“Good,” they hummed against her lips.

They felt Erin smile against their lips before she kissed them back.


	8. Interlude: First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez and Erin's first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long. It was supposed to be short, but my brain had other ideas and then I got busy with school. 
> 
> Hope y'all like it.

"So, what're you wearing?"

Vasquez bit back a sigh of exasperation. “You know, you’re a great friend and all, Mon-el, but war or not, I will report you for sexual harassment.” They didn’t even look up from the thruster coil they were working on. “Besides, you can see what I’m wearing: Alliance-issue duty uniform with-”

“No, no, not for work! I meant for your date!”

This time, Vasquez did look up from the thruster coil and glanced back at him to see an expectant look on his face.

“Well?” he asked.

Vasquez shrugged. “My uniform, I guess.” They didn’t really have much in terms of civilian clothing. 

“What! No!” 

Vasquez quirked an eyebrow at Mon-el’s dismayed protest. They yelped a second later when he grabbed their arm and dragged them away from the Kodiak. “Mike, what the fuck?!”

“You are not going on a date with Erin in your uniform.” His omni-tool lit up. “Hey, Brainy, are Kara and Eve free?”

_ “Yes, Mr. Matthews.” _

“Great! Can you let them know I’ll be up on Deck 3 in a few minutes? I need their help.”

_ “At once.” _

Mon-el hit the selection for Deck 3 as soon as the two of them were in the elevator.

Vaquez rubbed their arm. “You realise I don’t have civilian clothing, right?” they asked.

“That’s what Kara and Eve are for.”

“...I swear to god if you put me in a dress, I’m gonna kick you out of the airlock.”

-

The second the elevator doors opened on Deck Three, Vasquez briefly contemplated asking Brainy to send the elevator crashing back down to the cargo bay. They never got the chance because the next thing they knew, Kara had a grip around their arm and dragged them towards life support.

“Hey, fragile human arms here!” Vasquez protested.

“Oops, sorry about that, LT.” Kara’s grip loosened just a bit, but not enough so that Vasquez could wiggle out of it. “Just couldn’t have you bolting.”

Vasquez huffed. “...is there a reason we’re going to life support instead of the head?” they asked.

“More space,” Kara said.

Their brow furrowed. “More space?” 

The doors hissed open, revealing Eve, several racks of clothing, and a long mirror.

Vasquez blinked at the sight. “The fuck? I don’t remember a mirror being on the last requisition order.”

Eve shrugged. “Bribed Tsung to get it on board the last time we were docked at the Citadel,” she said.

Vasquez waited for the punchline, but when none came, they realised she was serious. “I’m gonna kick him out of an airlock,” they grumbled.

Mon-el clapped them on the shoulder. “Aw, c’mon, Vas, it was for a good cause!” he said.

Vasquez huffed. “Debatable.”

Eve waved a hand. “Debate later, LT.” A set of pants flew towards Vasquez’s head. They caught them on instinct. “Strip.”

Vasquez immediately started sputtering. “ _ Excuse me? _ ” they demanded, pants hanging limp in their grip.

“You can’t show up to your date with Erin in your uniform, Vas,” Kara said.

“We’re having dinner in the mess hall, Kara,” they said. “I don’t think Erin’s gonna have that big of an issue with me in my uniform given that she’s still gonna be in medbay-issue clothing.”

And she would still look absolutely amazing in it.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t clean up a bit,” she argued.

“You realise we’re on a warship, right?” Vasquez pointed out. “I’m on duty all the time, which means I have to be in my uniform and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

They weren’t trying to make excuses, it was just the truth. Alex, and by extension the Normandy, seemed to find trouble easier than a drunk sailor on Omega. If shit hit the fan, as it often seemed to do whenever the Normandy entered a new star system, they would have to be down in the cargo bay before Nia finished issuing an all-hands on deck. If it happened during their date with Erin, it would kill them to leave but war was war; it didn’t care about dinner plans.

“Yeah, about that.” Kara’s omnitool lit up. “You’ve been relieved of duty for the next 24 hours. Alex’s orders.”

“What?!”

They heard Mon-el sigh in exasperation behind them. “Vas, dude, for once in your life, forget about work and focus on the fact that you have a date like a normal person,” he said.

That was easier said than done when they lived where they worked. 

Eve cut in, “Look, Vasquez, you’re not leaving this room until you’re wearing something other than your uniform.” She pointed to the pants in their hands. “So, stop bitching, start stripping, and put those pants on.”

Vasquez scowled. “I hate all of you,” they said.

“You’ll be thanking us in a bit,” Kara said cheerfully.

Vasquez undid their belt. “Again, highly debatable.”

-

“Are you seriously having your date in the mess hall?” Kara asked.

Vasquez flicked a glance at her in the mirror as they did up the buttons on the shirt Eve had handed them. “Where else would we have it?” they asked. “Port Observation’s chill, but cramped and there’s always someone there and you set up shop in Starboard Observation, and I doubt she’d want to stay in the medbay since she’s been there for a while now.”

The thoughtful expression that crossed Kara’s face made them raise an eyebrow, but they didn’t say anything. Instead, they chose to take a good look at themself in the mirror now that they finished buttoning up the shirt.

They immediately frowned. 

“Your expression tells me you’re not that enthused by what you’re wearing,” Eve said.

“I’m not.”

The outfit was all wrong. The pants that Eve had handed them earlier turned out to be a set of skinny jeans that hugged their hips in a way that made them uncomfortable. The shirt was a nice pastel pink, but felt tight and looked almost painted on now that it was buttoned up. 

“Where did you get this shirt, anyway?” Vasquez asked.

“From Major Lane,” Eve replied.

“And the pants?”

“They’re Maggie’s.”

“Right.” Vasquez looked themself over once more and folded their arms. Perhaps on a different day, they would’ve liked the way it accentuated their arms, but the way it sat everywhere else drew their attention to their chest and that wasn’t something they wanted. “Yeah, this isn’t gonna work. It’s just, it’s wrong.”

Vasquez didn’t really know how else to articulate it in a way that would make sense to the rest of them.

They saw Mon-el nod. “It makes your arms look dope as fuck, man, but it isn’t really you,” he said.

Vasquez snapped their fingers. “Yeah, that’s it.” 

Even though they hadn’t worn pastels in ages, they didn’t have a problem with them. It was just the way that clothing was cut that could sometimes prove to be a problem for them.

They had to fight back a grin at the looks of surprise on Eve and Kara’s faces. Mon-el could be a real meat head from time to time, but he was a good kid and he had known them longer than anyone on the ship. It only made sense that he would realise just what it was that was making them so uncomfortable.

“Alright, so how do we fix that?” Eve asked.

“Is there anything on the rack that’s a cut a little looser?” Vasquez asked.

“Hmm…” Kara walked over to the rack and pushed some shirts aside. Vasquez saw her pull a dark green button up out a few moments later. “How about this?”

Vasquez considered it. The cut was definitely less defined than the shirt they had on now. 

“I’ll try it,” they said.

Kara quickly shucked it off the hanger and tossed it their way.

Vasquez caught it with ease and hung it off the edge of the mirror whilst they worked to unbutton the shirt they currently had on. It didn’t take them long to change out of it and into the new shirt.

“Are there any other pants?” they asked, once the shirt was on. “‘Cause if there aren’t, I’m sticking with my uniform pants.”

“What about these?” They turned back towards the rack to see Mon-el holding up another pair of jeans. They were darker than the pair Vasquez had on currently and looked a little less slim.

Vasquez shrugged. “Toss em over,” they said.

The jeans went flying towards them. It took Vasquez a few moments to wiggle out of the skinny jeans and a few more moments of hopping around to tug the new set on. They heard Mon-el chuckle behind them and proceeded to flip him off without looking at him.

A quick glance in the mirror was all Vasquez needed to nod their approval. That was better. 

Eve whistled her agreement. “Not gonna lie, you look a lot better in that, LT,” she said.

Vasquez looked back at her. “You saying I looked like shit in the other outfit, Specialist?” they asked, a cheeky grin on their face.

Eve immediately turned red. “No!” she protested. 

Vasquez laughed. “I’m just messing with you, Eve,” they assured her. They let out a breath and glanced back in the mirror. “Any other opinions?”

“Well,” Mon-el drawled out, “you’ve definitely got that soft futch vibe going on now.”

Vasquez blinked. Out of everything they had expected him to say,  _ that _ had definitely not been one of them.

“Did you seriously just call them soft futch?” Kara asked, incredulous.

“What? Am I wrong?” he defended.

“C’mon, Vas is at least butch!” Eve argued.

“Ehhhh…”

Vasquez cleared their throat. “Mike, if you think I’m soft futch, who the hell do you think is butch on this ship?” they asked.

Mon-el shrugged. “The commander, obviously,” he said.

Vasquez felt their jaw drop.  _ “Excuse me?” _ they demanded. “How is she butch and I’m soft futch?!”

“Honestly, it’s her shotgun.” Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “Oh, c’mon, Vas, she handles a Claymore like its a Katana! That’s like, the most butch thing ever!”

“I’m a pilot and an engineer!” they protested. 

Mon-el held his hands up. “Sorry dude, if you can’t fire a shotgun that’ll break the arms of us mere mortals, you’re not butch,” he said.

Vasquez folded their arms across their chest and huffed. They had to resist the urge to pout. 

Eve coughed, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “Are we just going to completely ignore that Mon-el even knows what a soft futch is to begin with?” she asked.

“Hey!”

“That’s...actually a really good point.” Vasquez looked back at Mon-el, who had a slightly indignant expression on his face. “How do  _ you _ know what futch and butch are, anyway?”

“I read about them on the extranet. ANN did a whole spread on the history of queer terminology a few months back before the war started,” he said. “It was pretty interesting.”

Vasquez stared at him, as did Kara and Eve. 

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Vasquez shook their head. “That’s just not something I’d ever think you’d do. No offence.”

“I’m not a total meathead,” he said.

“Says the guy who crashed  _ my shuttle _ into a Cerberus shuttle,” Vasquez said.

Mon-el rolled his eyes and flipped them off.

Vasquez gave him a cheeky grin in response.

“So,” Kara spoke up. “Yay or nay on the outfit, Vas, ‘cause we still have to do your hair.”

Vasquez’s grin quickly turned into a frown. “What’s wrong with my hair?” they asked.

“It’s the straightest thing about you right now,” Eve said bluntly, “and I know for a fact that that’s not it’s normal state.”

Vasquez instinctively ran a hand through their hair and glanced back at the mirror. Eve was right. Their hair normally had a bit of a natural wave with a curl that would show up when it got long enough, but that wasn’t the case today. It had been ages since they had had their hair long enough for the curl to develop and months of washing their hair with Alliance issue shampoo had softened the wave their hair had, leading it to just flop like the straight mess it had turned into.

“You have a fix?” they asked.

“Something like that.” 

The glint in Eve’s eye made Vasquez’s stomach flip. “Oh boy.”

-

Vasquez stared at their hair. “Tessmacher, how the fuck.”

The wave was back in their hair and somehow, Eve had even managed to get the curl to show up even without their hair being the length it usually needed.

Eve grinned. “I styled hair on the side back in university to help pay the bills,” she said.

They had to resist the urge to run their fingers through their hair, fearful that if they did, they would mess of Eve’s hard work. “You would’ve made a killing as a hairstylist,” Vasquez muttered. 

“Probably.” Eve shrugged. “But then the Normandy would be fucked without its comms officer.”

“Amen to that,” Mon-el said. 

Vasquez let out a breath and finally took their eyes off their hair to look back at the others. “Alright, y’all think my hair’s better now? Because I sure as hell do,” they said.

“Oh definitely,” Kara agreed. “Peak gay right there.”

“Gay enough to be considered butch?” they asked, half joking.

“Nah, you’re still futch,” Mon-el said. “Just, probably not as soft.”

Vasquez scowled. “Dick.”

“You know it!” Mon-el aimed a set of finger guns at them.

“Please never do that again.”

He promptly folded his arms and huffed.

Eve squeezed their shoulder. “You look amazing, Vas,” she said. 

“Presentable enough for dinner, then?” they asked dryly.

“More than,” Kara said. “About dinner, though…”

Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Well…”

-

Vasquez stood outside the medbay. They took a breath, closed their eyes, then counted to ten in an attempt to calm their nerves. 

It worked for all of five seconds before the medbay doors hissed open. 

Vasquez eyes flew open and grew wide at the sight that greeted them. Erin wasn’t in the standard medical outfit that they had expected her to be in. Instead, she wore a red dress that fell just above the knee and a set of black flats and her hair was pulled back into a low bun. On anyone else, it would have been too simple a look, but on Erin? It was perfect. 

“Hi,” Erin said, breaking Vasquez out of their examination of her. 

“H-hi.” Vasquez wanted to kick themself for the way they stuttered.

She raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?” 

“Oh yeah, everything’s perfect. You’re perfect, with the clothes and the hair and just, wow,” they stammered out. “I’m just, I’m so gay.”

They felt their face flame as soon as the words left their lips. The sound of someone’s head, most likely Mon-el’s, meeting one of the tables in the mess hall made their cheeks grow even warmer with embarrassment. 

To their relief, Erin smiled. The way her cheeks darkened told Vasquez that she was blushing just like they were.

“I’d certainly hope so,” she said.

There was a cough from behind Erin, courtesy of Dr. Hamilton. 

“Doc,” Vasquez finally greeted. “Is Ms. King cleared to leave the medbay?”

“She is.” The grin that showed up on Dr. Hamilton’s face made Vasquez raise a wary eyebrow. “Just be sure to keep any, ah, strenuous activities to the minimum tonight.”

There was a choked sound from Erin. Vasquez could feel their fading blush come back with a vengeance.

“I’m not Mike,” Vasquez growled. They did their best to ignore the strangled note their voice took towards the end.

There was an indignant,  _ “Hey! _ ” from the mess hall behind them.

Dr. Hamilton laughed. “Thank god for that. Between him and Commander Danvers, its amazing I still have the necessary supplies to treat everyone else,” she said. “If there were two of him, we’d be in much more dire straits.”

“That’s what requisition orders are for, doc.”

“Maybe later, Lieutenant.” She tipped her head. “After your date.”

“Right.” Vasquez glanced at Erin, whose eyes were full of amusement. They coughed and held their hand out. “Shall we, Erin?”

Erin took their hand. “Absolutely.”

Vasquez grinned.

-

“I thought we were eating in the mess hall,” Erin said as they walked right past everyone.

“I did too.” At Erin’s curious head tilt, Vasquez shrugged. “Kara’s giving us Starboard Observation for the night. Said she’d crash in Life Support because it sounds like the engineering quarters of Argo City or something.”

“What’s Argo City?”

“No idea,” Vasquez said. “It’s definitely not an Alliance ship, I can tell you that much.”

“Oh?” Erin raised an eyebrow.

Vasquez grinned. “I know every ship in the fleet.”

“Of course you do.” Erin chuckled. “So, are you going to tell me what’s awaiting us in Starboard Observation, Mx. Vasquez?”

“Nope!” Vasquez’s grin widened. “Gotta let that suspense build so I can continue to live up to that whole ‘mysterious pilot’ thing you said I have.”

They saw a surprised look cross Erin’s face. “You remembered that I said that?”

“Of course. Kinda hard to forget when a brilliant smile followed it,” they said.

“Brilliant?”

“Yeah.” Vasquez nodded their head. “Absolutely brilliant.”

Erin’s cheeks turned pink. Vasquez had to resist the urge to press a kiss to them. There would be time for that later, hopefully.

Vasquez turned their attention to the doors leading to Port Observation. Their omni-tool lit up as they put in the entrance key. A moment later, the doors to Port Observation hissed open. They barely had time to glance over the set up inside before they heard Erin gasp behind them. 

“Vasquez, is that…?”

Vasquez gently tugged Erin’s hand so that she was in the room with them, rather than just standing in the doorway.

“I take it you like it?” they asked. They did their best to keep their voice even in an attempt to keep their nerves from showing through.

“I love it,” Erin said. She took a deep breath. “Where did you even get  waterblommetjies?”

“I’m friends with the chief requisition officer on the Belgrade,” Vasquez said. “She picked some up for me when it was over Bekenstein.”

They saw Erin blink. “The Belgrade was over Bekenstein a month ago,” she said slowly.

Vasquez ducked their head to hide the blush they could feel rising to their cheeks. “I overheard that you were kinda homesick,” they admitted. “Campbell’s family is from Cape Town, so she’s pretty familiar with what’s popular on Bekenstein. I was gonna have her make some a few weeks back but things got rough and, well, yeah.”

They saw Erin soften. They made a small noise of surprise when her lips brushed against their cheek a moment later. 

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” she asked.

“I mean, I’m a pilot,” Vasquez said, half joking. “It kinda comes with the MOS.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky that you’re so attractive, Mx. Vasquez,” she said.

“Yeah?” Vasquez flashed a grin at her.

She poked them in the shoulder not-so-gently, drawing a mock pout from them. “Save your fishing for after dinner,” she said.

Vasquez sighed. “Oh, fine.” They squeezed her hand to let her know that they weren’t really put out with her. 

“So,” they drew out, “where do we start?”

Campbell had outdone herself with the spread. There were two types of stew, a loaf of bread, something that appeared to be a cross between a quiche and a pie, and a tray full of what looked like torched meringue. Vasquez only recognised the dish with the waterblommetjies, but still had no idea what to begin with.

Erin sat on the couch. “It depends on what your tastes are. If you want something spicy, then tamatiebredie,” she pointed to the red stew, “is probably the way to go. If you want a more traditional stew, then waterblommetjiebredie is a safe bet. Or if you don’t want stew, then the bobotie is a good choice.”

“Is that the thing that looks like a quiche?” they asked.

Erin laughed. A faint smile rose to Vasquez’s lips at the sound. They really loved her laugh.

“Yeah,” she said once her laughter had died down.

Vasquez nodded. “I guess I’ll have that,” they said.

“One bowl bobotie coming right up.” 

She moved to grab a ladle while Vasquez grabbed two bowls. They handed her one while looking at the rest of the food.

“Anything you want?” they asked.

“If you could get me some waterblommetjiebredie, that would be great,” she said, spooning some of the bobotie into the bowl Vasquez had handed her.

“The green stew, right?” It might have had the waterblommetjies in it, but Vasquez still wanted to make sure they were getting Erin the right thing.

“Yup.”

One and a half ladlefuls later, Vasquez and Erin were swapping dishes. They both took a spoonful of their respective dishes, then knocked them together.

“What are we cheering to?” Vasquez asked.

“Our first date?” Erin suggested.

“The first of many, then.”

“That was surprisingly smooth.”

“I try.” Vasquez took a bite of bobotie and let out a small hum of curiosity as the contrast of dried apricots and curry spices hit them. It was different than anything they had eaten before, but not unpleasant.

They glanced over to Erin and nearly dropped their bowl when they saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“Shit, Erin, are you alright? Something hurt? Is it too hot?” 

Erin shook her head. “Everything’s fine,” she eventually said. “It just, it reminds me of home.”

Vasquez put their bowl down on the table and trailed a thumb under her eyes with one hand to wipe away her tears while holding her hand with their free one. “Tell me about it.”

“What?” Erin gave them a confused look.

“Bekenstein. Not the Bekenstein I see in the vids, but the one that’s your home,” Vasquez clarified. “I want to hear about your Bekenstein, about you.”

Erin smiled. “Alright.”

-

“You didn’t,” Vasquez said.

Erin nodded. “I did.”

“You wrote an expose on your principal and got him fired for embezzlement. On Bekenstein.”

“Yup!” 

Vasquez let out a low whistle. “Daaaamn. How’d your family take it?”

Erin leaned back. “Mum was horrified. She thought we’d be ‘encouraged’ to move from Milgrom to New Cape Town, which was fair given that we’d had to move to the edge of Milgrom’s outskirts after Dad’s piece on insider trading ruffled the wrong feathers.”

Vasquez winced. No wonder Erin had gone to work for ANN once she was able. ANN had a reputation for sticking by its reporters, unless it was found that a reporter had grossly misrepresented the facts. Then ANN would come down harder than a thousand pound ferrous slug. 

“Did it? Ruffle the wrong feathers, I mean,” Vasquez said.

“It certainly ruffled Principal Morris’ feathers, that’s for sure.” Erin’s grin was cheeky. It made Vasquez want to kiss her. “But he wasn’t able to call in any favours because his friends did their own digging and found out that he’d broken one of Bekenstein’s biggest rules.”

Vasquez’s brow furrowed. “What rule?” 

“He got caught stealing their money. On Bek, the rich and powerful think embezzling all good and fun so long that you don’t get caught doing it,” Erin explained. “Once you do, you’re done because for all the fun they think embezzling is, at the end of the day, there’s nothing they hate more than knowingly losing money.”

“I suppose it didn’t help him that a high school student was the reason that got caught,” they mused.

“Nope. Definitely helped me, though. I had Principal Morris by the neck and everyone knew it,” she said. “So while mum was horrified, Dad and Gran were both pretty chuffed. Gran even said it was how she knew I’d make it on Bek if I wanted to pursue a journalism career on the planet.”

The way she said it made Vasquez tilt their head in curiosity. “Make it on Bek?”

“It’s a line in a really popular song, ‘if you can make it on Bek, you’ve got ‘em by the neck,’” she said. 

Vasquez let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty hardcore, but definitely apt because it the whole thing obviously made a badass out of you,” they said.

A faint smile twitched its way across her lips. “Ha, I dunno if I’d go that far, Vas,” she said. 

“Oh?” Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”

“Because I’m just a reporter-”

Vasquez cut her off, “A reporter who’s been stationed on the Normandy, pulls her own weight on the ship, and saved my life.” 

“You saved mine first,” she reminded them. “Alex told me that the armour you put me in saved my life.”

“And you got shot. For me.” Vasquez squeezed her hand. “That’s something a badass does.”

Erin ducked her head, her cheeks starting to darken. Before she could get far, Vasquez gently placed a thumb under her chin to get her to look back up and pressed their lips to hers, drawing a happy hum from her.

“Total badass,” Vasquez murmured against her lips once they broke apart.

Erin pressed her forehead to theirs. “Not gonna win this one, am I, Lieutenant?”

“Nope!”

Erin let out a sigh of mock exasperation. “I guess I’ll accept defeat, for now,” she drawled.

Vasquez laughed and kissed her nose.

-

“Alright, your turn,” Erin said. 

Vasquez paused, hertzoggie halfway to their mouth. “What do you want to hear about? My time as a dashing smuggler-pilot, the most insane mission I’ve ever run, does Alex really-”

“Ferris Fields.”

Vasquez’s mouth went dry. They licked their lips nervously. “What, what do you want to know about it?” They tried to keep their voice steady even as their palms started to sweat.

Erin seemed to pick up on their nerves because she gave them an easy smile before taking their hand in hers and giving it a comforting squeeze. 

“What was it like, before the Collectors hit?” she asked. “That’s what I want to know. I want to hear about what it was like for you.”

Vasquez let out a shaky breath. They could do that. They leaned back against the couch.

“For a colony out in the Terminus Systems, it was pretty quaint,” they started. “There were raider attacks from time to time, but nothing serious. Nothing that we couldn’t deal with, anyway.”

“Because of the Alliance presence?” Erin asked.

“Kind of. But it was more because Ferris Fields was a major trading hub for the Terminus systems.”

Out of the corner of their eye, Vasquez saw Erin’s eyebrows rise up in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

Vasquez grinned. “Yeah, not a lot of people do,” they said. “There’s this misconception about Terminus colonies, that all they do is agriculture related stuff, but for a lot of them, agriculture is just a part of the infrastructure. It really all depends on where exactly the colony is located.”

“Still, a Terminus trading hub?” 

Vasquez shrugged. “It’s between Illium and Omega,” they said. “The Alliance has sanctions on trade with Omega, so if you have a human merchant that wants to trade something on Omega, they stop on Ferris Fields to have the goods in question scrubbed. That way, they can then go on to trade without incurring a penalty from the Alliance.”

“Sounds like the perfect place for a smuggler-pilot.” The way Erin grinned towards the end of that statement told Vasquez that she was joking around.

“I’ll have you know I was a legitimate business person while stationed there,” Vasquez said, mock indignation colouring their tone. “I worked construction.”

“Which I’m sure was a front for something much more nefarious, like smuggling puppies or something,” she teased.

Vasquez huffed, then melted when they felt Erin’s lips against their cheek. 

“You know I’m just teasing, Vas.”

“I know.” A beat. “I didn’t smuggle puppies, though. I smuggled FBA couplings.”

Erin pulled away. “Wait, really?” 

“No.” Vasquez’s grin reappeared, cheekier than ever. “But your reaction was great.”

Erin shoved their shoulder. “You’re an ass.”

“An ass that you like.” Vasquez waggled their eyebrows.

“Careful with that smoothness, Vas, otherwise you’re gonna right slide off the couch,” she said, smiling. 

Vasquez held their hands up. “And just like that, I’m going to admit defeat because I don’t know how to come up with a response smoother than yours,” they said.

Erin preened. “You don’t,” she said simply, “because I’m a reporter.”

“Biggest badass reporter in the galaxy,” Vasquez said. 

“Damn straight!”

Vasquez rolled their eyes. “Let’s be real, nothing about you is straight, not even your hair.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” she said. “Alright, damn gay, then.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them. By now, Vasquez and her were wearing matching grins. Vasquez did their best to hold back the laughter that had been building during their and Erin’s exchange. Then they saw the corners of Erin’s lips twitch. 

Vasquez cracked before she did. They busted out laughing, breaking the silence. Erin joined them seconds later. 

It took both of them a while before the laughter eventually died down. Vasquez wiped tears of mirth from their eyes and let a few coughs to try and get their breathing back under control. 

“God,” they wheezed, “I haven’t laughed like that forever.”

“It’s nice, your laugh,” Erin said. She scooted closer to them. “It’s different than the one I’ve heard before. Warmer.” She snuggled against them. “I like it.”

Vasquez felt their heart leap up into their throat as Erin laid her head against their chest. They cleared their throat. “Yeah, well, with everything going on, I haven’t really had a whole lot of reasons to laugh, you know?”

In the months since the attack on Ferris Fields, it had been easier for Vasquez to just plaster on a fake smile and say that everything was fine than it was for them to muster up the effort for a genuine laugh. Between their grief and the stress of the war, it was a bit of a wonder that Vasquez smiled at all.

“Yeah.” Erin sighed and glanced up at Vasquez. “Care to tell me more about Ferris Fields?”

“Sure. You’re gonna have to give me some specifics about what you want to know about, though, otherwise I’m gonna end up incriminating myself. Again.”

“Can’t have that now,” she chuckled. “Alright, how about your favourite thing on Ferris Fields?”

“I can do that.” Vasquez absently ran a hand through her hair. “I think I’d have to say that the Andes Grandes is my favourite thing about Ferris Fields.”

“‘Big Andes?’” They could hear the question in Erin’s tone.

“They’re Ferris Field’s version of Mindoir’s Gran Alps, except a little less dramatic and Spanish. Or Nahuatl, depending on the formation question,” Vasquez said. At her curious look, they gave her a small half shrug. "The original settlement population of Ferris Fields was predominantly made up of people from Central and South America, so a lot of the geographical features there were named using Spanish or Nahuatl.” 

“I learn something new every time I’m around you,” Erin mused.

Vasquez let out a soft chuckle. “I always try to have an interesting fact or seven to throw into a conversation,” they said.

“I think it’s charming.” Erin smiled up at them. “So, anything in particular about the Andes Grandes that you like or is it just the big mountains themselves?”

Vasquez shook their head. “The whole range is amazing to look at, especially when you’re flying in, but the southern portion is the best in my opinion,” they said. “The main colony is in that region. I lived close enough to the southern portion of the range that on the weekends, I’d go hiking and watch the sunrise.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Erin said.”

Vasquez glanced out the large Starboard Observation window. “Yeah,” they said quietly. “It was.”

It was also another thing that they hadn’t done since Vanessa died. They couldn’t bring themself to hike up the mountains knowing that they would be returning to an empty house. 

“You know, if we survive this, if Alex does the impossible like she usually does, then I’d be happy to show you what that sunrise on Ferris Fields looks like,” they said.

“You planning our second date already, Vas?” Erin asked. “What makes you so sure you’re gonna get a second date?”

“Well, the incredibly attractive reporter cuddled against me is definitely a sign, but,” Vasquez drew out, “if she doesn’t want to-”

Erin poked them in the chest. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I thought you liked my ass,” Vasquez said, a cheeky, entirely unrepentant grin crossing their lips.

“It’s very fine.” Erin quickly sobered. “I’d really like to see the sunrise with you, though, when this is all said and done.”

Vasquez smiled. They placed a hand on her face and drew her up so that they could kiss her soft. Her lips like apricots and coconut, thanks to the hertzoggie she had been eating earlier, with a hint of Akantha in the background. 

The two of them broke apart. 

“How do my lips taste this time around?” Erin asked.

Vasquez pressed their forehead against hers then kissed her again.

“Perfect,” they hummed against her lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no real concrete information in Mass Effect canon about Ferris Fields other than it being located in the Terminus Systems and that Steve Cortez was stationed there when the Collectors hit, so I ended up doing a bunch of galaxy building. I may do a whole write up at a later date.
> 
> Other terms that show up:  
waterblommetjies - a type of flower found in South Africa that's used in waterblommetjiesbredie, a type of stew.
> 
> tamatiebredie - a South African stew made that's usually made with mutton and seasoned with cinnamon, cardamom, ginger and cloves as well as chilli.
> 
> bobotie - a South African dish consisting of spiced minced meat baked with an egg-based topping. It looks like a cross between Shepherd's Pie and quiche.
> 
> hertzoggie - it's a jam filled tart with a coconut topping.


	9. Priority: Thessia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thessia falls and Erin gets a reality check about what it means to be dating an Alliance officer in the middle of a galactic war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter out. School, work, and life pretty much punched me in the fact for 3 months straight. But I've graduated now and should have a little more time to write in-between looking for jobs.

Thessia was burning.

The Reapers had hit the Asari world in full force, likely knowing that it would take everything to pacify the biotic race. The Asari had done all that they could to secure their borders ahead of time, but from the looks of things, their actions were a case of too little, too late. 

Through the holographic windows of the Kodiak, Vasquez could clearly see that the Asari were giving it their all. But the burning buildings and countless corpses also told them that the Asari were losing. 

“Vasquez, have you had any luck raising the scientists at the Temple?” Alex asked from the back.

Vasquez shook their head. “Negative, being planetside has helped somewhat, but channels are still scrambled across the spectrum,” they said. “Even if the scientists can hear our hails, they might not be able to get anything back out to us.”

“Dammit,” Alex hissed. “Alright, Mags, do you have any more information about the Temple?”

“Other than that it has a considerable amount of government funding behind it, no, I don’t.” Vasquez could hear the frown in Maggie’s voice. 

“On Earth, there are some religious institutions that receive state funding,” they said.

“I’m aware, but it’s nothing of this magnitude. And no other temple in the Republics receives anything close to the amount of funding that the Temple of Athame does.” There was a sigh. “To be honest, the amount of funding behind it doesn’t make any sense because very few still follow the Athame Doctrine. Like even when my tia’s bondmate took me some twenty years back, I could count the number of worshippers in the pews with a hand and a half.”

“I remember her,” Kara spoke up. “When it mattered most, she fought indoctrination with everything she had.”

“Yeah.” There was something in Maggie’s tone that made Vasquez raise an eyebrow. They could tell that there was a serious story there. “And this brings all those memories back. What if Thessia faces the same fate?”

“It won’t, not for long,” Alex said fiercely. “We’ll find the Catalyst and save Thessia and Earth and every other planet that the Reapers are determined to burn to the ground.”

“I hope you’re right, Alex,” Maggie said.

Vasquez hoped for the same thing. This war was turning into a nightmare worse than anything they could ever dream of. They were ready to wake and find the Reapers destroyed, and if there was one person who could make that happen, it was Commander Alex Danvers.

Suddenly, the Kodiak shuddered.

“Fuck!” Vasquez swore. Their hands flew as they worked to redirect power to stabilisers. “Buckle up! This one’s gonna be tight!”

Without waiting for a response, they pulled into a harsh turn to avoid a blast from a Harvester. They heard the grunts and dull thunks as armoured bodies collided with the inner walls of the shuttle. 

“Try to keep us in one piece, LT!” Vasquez heard Kara shout from the back.

A Harvester’s screech echoed through the Kodiak’s audio emulators.

“I’m trying!” they shouted back.

Vasquez spotted the landing zone up ahead. The Harvester’s throaty scream echoed once again. They grit their teeth, then plunged the shuttle through a large plume of smoke before punching it in an attempt to lose the Harvester that had started to take interest in the shuttle.

“Vasquez…” Alex warned.

“I got this!” they reassured her. “I got this.”

Right before the shuttle could collide with a pile of rubble, Vasquez quickly pulled up and triggered the shields.

“Kodiak has landed!” they announced.

“Open the hatch!” Alex ordered.

Vasquez opened the hatch. The noise of battle filled the shuttle. The sounds of husks, Brutes, Harvesters, Cannibals and other Reaper monstrosities combined with the sound of Asari commandos fighting for their lives was enough to make Vasquez almost wish for silence. But they didn’t. Sound meant life, meant that there was still at least one person fighting back. That the Reapers hadn’t won yet. 

“Mags, make contact with the commando squad leader, Kara, cover with biotics as needed.”

“Roger that.” 

Kara and Maggie both left the shuttle.

Vasquez grabbed their rifle and moved to get up to exit the cockpit. Before they could stand, they felt Alex’s hand come down on their shoulder pad and keep them in place.

“Commander?”

“Your orders are to keep the shuttle intact and do not engage unless you absolutely have to,” Alex said. Her voice was quiet, but Vasquez still heard it loud and clear nonetheless.

Vasquez glanced to where the Asari were fighting. The commandos at this position were stretched thin. Even from the distance they were at, Vaquez could count at least a dozen bodies that had been hastily covered by tarps. The Kodiak didn’t have much in terms of fire power, but her guns could be the thing to take some of the pressure off of the commandos and give them a chance to breathe. If Alex honestly thought that they were just going to sit back and do nothing, she had another thing coming.

Alex seemed to pick up on the protest that Vasquez was readying to launch, because they felt her grip tighten on their shoulder. 

“Trust me, I don’t like it any more than you do, but I need the Kodiak in one piece and I need you to stay alive. Your life and the shuttle take precedence over that of the commandos, understood?”

Vasquez’s jaw clenched. “Understood, Commander,” they gritted out.

Alex let go of their shoulder and hopped out of the shuttle. Before she could start towards where Maggie and Kara were, Vasquez spoke up. 

“Alex.”

Alex glanced over her shoulder. 

“Be careful,” they said.

She nodded. “No promises.” 

She hopped out of the shuttle and flashed down to where Maggie and Kara were. 

Vasquez waited until the three of them to step past the barricade. Once they did, Vasquez grabbed their rifle and exited the shuttle to join in the fray, Alex’s orders be damned.

-

Vasquez spotted the subtle shift from white to red in the Brute’s eyes. They saw its arms pull back in preparation for the double chest beat that signalled it was about to charge. Before it could bring an arm down to its armoured chest, Vasquez opened fire.

The Brute roared, as if furious that Vasquez would try to stop its charge towards the barricade. It tried to push past the incendiary rounds that Vasquez sent down the length of the bridge.

No one on the barricade was about to let it get that far.

The lead commando, Lieutenant Kurin, seemed to spot the flames that were starting to lick at the Brute’s armoured form because she shouted, “THROW!”

A smaller commando, Elune, if Vasquez remembered the name correctly, leapt forward and swung her arm out, sending a blue projectile soaring across the bridge. 

Vasquez stopped breathing as the projectile flew. If Elune missed, if the Brute moved, then they were all toast.

The ball of biotic energy connected with the Brute. 

The Brute exploded into a shower of gore and shrapnel. The Husks and Cannibals closest to it were shredded, while the rest that had flanked it were blown clean off the bridge. There was a second, smaller explosion that signalled that the barrier engine had finally been destroyed.

“Fuck yes!” Elune cheered.

Vasquez let out the breath they’d been holding.

Kurin slapped Elune on the back. “Nice shot, kid,” she praised.

Elune rolled her eyes. “I’m 352 years old, LT, I’m not a kid anymore,” she said.

“I still got 300 years on you,” Kurin drawled. “That makes you a kid.”

Elune flipped her off.

Despite the stress humming underneath their skin, Vasquez felt their lips twitch into a smile at the sight. It was good to know that even with war raging around them and the threat of galactic annihilation hanging over their necks, small moments like this were still happening. 

Kurin clapped her hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, T’Vani, shore up the barrier!” she ordered. “Elune, get back up on the barricade and keep an eye out for Reaper reinforcements. The rest of you, weapon and ammo checks.”

A chorus of, “Yes, Ma’ams!” rang out.

She directed a glance to Vasquez. “Lieutenant Vasquez, a word.”

Vasquez nodded. “Of course.”

The two of them stepped towards where the casualties were while the rest of the squad took their appropriate positions.

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” they asked once they were far enough back.

Kurin sighed and slumped down onto an ammo crate. “I mean, other than the fact that my planet is on fire and millions of my sisters are dying because our leadership would rather hide in their boardrooms than fight alongside us while a race of sentient robotic cuttlefish tries to destroy everything we have ever made, everything else is just peachy,” she said.

Vasquez winced. “Fuck, I didn’t-”

Kurin waved them off. “It’s fine, sometimes it’s easy to forget about how bad a war is for everyone else when you’re on the front lines,” she said. 

Vasquez wanted to say that they understood, but they really didn’t. Yes, they were fighting this war, but not like Kurin was. They weren’t in the trenches like she was. Most of the time, their fights took place from a shuttle or the Normandy proper, not on the ground like this.

“Anyway,” Kurin continued, “I just wanted to say thank you. You have no idea the difference a single gun can make down here.”

Vasquez looked down at the rifle in their hands. The Lancer in question had seen better days. It was an old leftover piece from the First Contact War that they had bought on Omega ages ago. They had done their best to refurbish it, adapting the outdated weapon heat-generating system to handle the higher velocity rounds that were in use today. All the modifications in the galaxy couldn’t change the fact that it was still a dinosaur and very much not state of the art compared to everything else that was out there, though.

“I’m just doing my job,” Vasquez muttered. “We all fight or we all die and all that jazz.”

Kurin’s lips twitched into a wry smile. “Goddess, I wish the matriarchs understood that,” she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. She leaned back. “I’m not a complete idiot, though. I know that Commander Danvers ordered you to stand back.”

Vasquez did their best to keep their face expressionless. They hadn’t said anything beforehand. They had just joined the commandos and started shooting anything that was Reaper.

Something must have crossed their face though, because Kurin chuckled. “It’s fine, Lieutenant,” she said. “It’s a bitch move, but one that I can understand given how this is turning out and because it’s Commander Danvers, I can give it a pass as well, especially if she wins this damn war.”

“I think the odds are in her favour,” Vasquez mused. “I mean, she did kill one and if the rumours are to be believed, they killed her and she came back even more determined to kill the rest of them.”

Kurin’s laugh was cut off by her radio crackling to life. 

_ “-one there? This is Outpost Tykis--repeat, anyone left on th--frequency!” _

Kurin stood. “We read you Tykis, what’s the situation?”

_ “--Cerberus shuttle--Reapers inbound--you--!” _

The line went dead. 

Vasquez looked out into the distance and felt their stomach drop. Just like Outpost Tykis had relayed, Reapers were indeed inbound to their location.

“Fuck!” Kurin swore. “BATTLE POSITIONS! REAPERS INCOMING!”

She turned to Vasquez. “We’ll cover you for as long as we can so you can take off and retrieve the Commander,” she said.

Vasquez looked at the other commandos who were hurrying to reinforce their position. Even commandos who had been injured were back on their feet, guns in hand, and biotics glowing across their skin. 

“I need you to come with me,” they said.

They saw her bristle. “I’m not leaving my sisters--”

“You are the only commando in this unit from this area,” they said. “I need you to get me through the airspace as quickly as possible so I can get to Commander Danvers.”

Vasquez watched Kurin’s jaw clench. For a second, they thought she was going to deck them--a move they wouldn’t deny they deserved--but ultimately, she let out a harsh breath.

“Goddess damn you,” she hissed. She glanced over her shoulder. “CALIS!”

A flash of blue that made Vasquez avert their eyes. When it died down, a matron was standing before the two of them. 

“Yes, Lieutenant?” Calis asked.

“You’re in charge while I run an emergency escort.”

Vasquez saw the matron blanch for half a second before quickly regaining her bearing and nodding the affirmative. “Understood. Any specific orders?”

“Hold this position,” Kurin ordered. 

Calis’ throat bobbed. “And if we can’t?”

It wasn’t really an if. The commandos wouldn’t be able to hold this, not with the Reapers themselves coming for it. The most they would be able to do is go down fighting. If any of them were lucky, they might be able to slip away before it fell and regroup with another unit.

Kurin’s hand flexed, then moved to Calis’ shoulder. “Just hold it for as long as you can,” she said, giving Calis’ shoulder a comforting squeeze through her hardsuit. “There are manual warp bombs, just in case…”

Calis didn’t seem too surprised by the revelation, because all she did was nod. “Copy that, LT.” She stepped back and lifted her rifle in a salute. “Goddess be with us all.”

She flashed away to where the rest of the commandos were gathered before either Vasquez or Kurin could say anything in response. 

Kurin turned back to Vazquez. “Let's move, before I regret this," she said. 

Vasquez nodded and holstered their rifle on to their back. "If we're lucky, you won't."

-

The Kodiak sped through the streets of Armali. Vasquez kept the shuttle lower than they would have liked, but it was the best way to avoid the worst of the Reaper's forces. 

"Turn here," Kurin ordered. "You can cut through the promenade. From here, it'll be a straight shot to the Temple."

"Roger that." Not for the first time in the past several hours since they had landed on Thessia, was Vasquez grateful for the commando's presence. They still felt a pang of guilt for pulling her away from her unit but they knew that without her in the seat next to them, they would be toast. "Can you raise the Temple?"

"I can try." 

Both Vasquez and Kurin worked in tandem. Hands flew across their respective holographic displays as Vasquez focused on flying and Kurin worked to raise Alex and her team.

It wasn't long before Alex's voice crackled through.

_ "Danvers to Kodiak, can you read me? Repeat: Danvers to Kodiak, can you read me?" _

"We read you, Commander," Vasquez confirmed.

_ "Cerberus beat us here."  _

Vasquez felt their stomach drop. They knew just what that meant. 

"Orders to pursue?" they asked. 

_ "Negative."  _ Vasquez finally noticed that Alex sounded strained.  _ "Bastards escaped in a gunship. We need-"  _ There was a groan, followed by the sound of armour scuffling against concrete.  _ "We need an evac." _

"Roger that, Kodiak is currently en route. ETA 30 seconds."

_ "Copy that. What was the situation at the drop point?" _

Vasquez felt their jaw clench at the question. 

Kurin was the one who answered, "Commander this is Lieutenant Kurin. Drop point was secure at time of departure but Reapers are inbound."

The Reapers had probably hit the drop point by now.

_ "Goddammit." _

"Commander, approaching the Temple now," Vasquez said. "Be ready for extraction."

They cut the comm channel without waiting for a response.

"So much for that luck," Kurin muttered.

"I'm sorry."

Vasquez pulled the shuttle in and opened the hatch. Kara was in first, followed by Maggie. Alex was the last one in and looked the worst of the three of them. 

"Commander Danvers," Kurin greeted. 

"Lieutenant Kurin," she returned.

Kurin's radio crackled. Her hand flew to it.

"Report," she said sharply. 

_ "...anyone on this frequency? This is Corporal Calis, my squad is trapped!" _

"Calis is Kurin, update me on the squad's position!"

_ "I repeat, is there anyone on this frequency?” _

Kurin exited the shuttle. “Calis, I read you! Give me the position--”

Vasquez saw the explosion in the distance before the sound came through the radio.

_ “Calis is down!”  _ Vasquez recognised Elune’s voice. Their stomach clenched at the panic in her voice.  _ “Our whole zone is collapsing! What happened to Danvers and Kurin? Did they make it to the temple? I saw them--Wait. Shit, we have a capital ship inbound!” _

Vasquez saw it too. It was larger than the rest of the Reapers in the area, a sign that they meant to capture and convert the squad rather than destroy it completely. 

_ “Please! Is anybody there! I--”  _

Elune’s final plea cut off into a scream that itself was drowned out by the sound Reaper’s roar. Vasquez could only watch from afar as its laser swept through the area where the squad likely still was.

_ “Elune is down! Reapers took out most of the squad!”  _ A new voice, but just as panicked as Elune’s was.  _ “We can’t hold any longer. Initiating final countermeasures!” _

“Final countermeasures?” they heard Kara mutter.

She received her answer moments with the sight of an explosion in the distance. Biotic blues and purples illuminated the sky. One of the Reapers that had been hovering over the area stumbled back and then came crashing down; the blast had been close enough to rip through its shields and destroy its legs. Several buildings came tumbling down right after, sending a large plume of smoke and dust into the evening skies

No one cheered. The radio slipped from Kurin's grasp and clattered to the temple grounds. 

_ "--Kodiak! Come in Kodiak!" _

Vasquez directed the hail to their omnitool. "Kodiak here," they said. 

_ "Brainy detects multiple hostiles headed your way! You need to evac now!" _

Vasquez exchanged a pained glance with Alex, who gave them a curt nod. "Roger that, Normandy. ETA, five minutes. Over."

"Lieutenant Kurin," Alex spoke up, "we have to go. Now."

Kurin turned on her heel and marched back to the shuttle without a word. As soon as she was inside, Vasquez shut the hatch doors and took off. It was only after they had cleared the Armali skyline that they heard Kurin break down.

They bit down on their lip hard to keep from joining her.

-

The Normandy was in barely controlled chaos when the Kodiak landed in the shuttlebay. 

Vasquez barely had time to get the shuttle situated before Alex threw the hatch open and jumped out. They heard three pairs of armoured boots hit the cargo deck right after her, signalling that Kara, Maggie, and Lieutenant Kurin had left as well. Vasquez quickly unstrapped themself and hurried out of the shuttle as well.

They made it about two steps when they saw Alex’s biotics flare.

“ENOUGH!” she bellowed.

The cargo bay seemed to freeze. No one dared to move. Vasquez hardly dared to breathe. It wasn’t often that Alex raised her voice like that, which meant that when she did, you listened or risked becoming a smear across whatever surface was closest to you.

Alex exhaled. “Brainy, from the top, go,” she ordered.

_ “There is an emergency communication from Asari High Command requesting aid to evacuate the Armali Council of Matriarchs,”  _ he said.

“Anything else?”

_ “There is another emergency message that was relayed to Dr. Sawyer’s private comm channel.”  _ Vasquez saw Maggie tilt her head.  _ “The head of the Vasir estate is requesting help in evacuating. Reaper forces are closing in.”  _ A beat.  _ “There are children.” _

The current head of House Vasir was a human woman who had been bonded to Matriarch Tela Vasir. If Vasquez remembered correctly, her name was Lupita something.

Vasquez heard Maggie suck in a breath. It took them a minute to figure out why until they saw just how pale she had grown. Then it clicked.

Sawyer. The head of House Vasir’s last name was Sawyer or rather, Sawyer-Vasir. Vasquez had always wondered how Maggie knew so much about Asari society. Now they had their answer.

“Fuck,” Alex swore. She ran a hand through her hair. “Is there any way we can get to both?”

_ “Negative. Current projects indicate Reaper forces will soon overwhelm the system. Even with the IFF and stealth systems engaged, the Normandy will be unable to retrieve both groups and escape in a timely manner.” _

If it was only the Normandy doing the rescuing, yes. But if a second ship got involved…

“I’ll go,” Vasquez blurted out, before they could stop themself.

Heads snapped to them. 

“Excuse me?” Alex asked.

Vasquez swallowed. “I’ll go,” they said again. “The Normandy can evacuate the Armali matriarchs. While she’s doing that, I can take the Kodiak and retrieve the head of House Vasir and the kids from Serrice.”

Alex looked unconvinced. 

Vasquez tried a different angle. “The Kodiak is designed for missions just like this,” they argued. “Besides the Reapers have bigger things to worry about than a shuttle they can barely detect. I'll be in and out before anyone knows I was there."

“You won’t be able to fly and gun at the same time,” she pointed out.

A Kodiak needed at least two people for a mission like this: one to fly and the other to provide covering fire once on the ground.

“They won’t have to,” Kara spoke up. “I’ll go with them.”

“As will I.” Vasquez’s head whipped to Lieutenant Kurin. “Last report I received from Serrice was that the Reaper presence was making communications and navigation difficult. Lieutenant Vasquez will need a navigator.” 

Alex looked torn. Vasquez couldn't blame her, but everyone was running out of time. She had to make a decision, otherwise Vasquez was going to take the shuttle anyway and, assuming they didn't get blown to pieces, would probably spend the rest of the war in the brig.

"Alex..." Maggie's voice was soft.

"Fine," Alex said. “Brainy, how long do we have until the Normandy can no longer escape?”

_ “Approximately 20 minutes. Any longer and the risk of catastrophic damage to the Normandy rises exponentially.” _

“And if the Asari fleet provides us some cover?”

_ “30 minutes.” _

“Roger that.” She fixed Vasquez with a look so stern, they had to fight the urge to take a step back at the sight. “That’s your window. Once you leave the Normandy, you have 30 minutes. Reapers are falling, and we need to get out of here before we lose everything.”

Vasquez nodded. “Understood.”

“Alright, the rest of you, battle stations!” Alex ordered. “James, I want you on the main gun. Winn, contact Han’Gerrel and Platform 618. See if they can send a heavy patrol ship or two our way and fast. Specialist Tessmacher, get Asari High Command on the line. If they want the Normandy to evacuate Armali’s matriarchs, then the Asari fleets are going to have to give us some cover.”

There was a brief pause. No one moved.

“What the hell are you all waiting for?” she demanded. “You have your orders, now get going!”

A loud, resounding, “Yes, Ma’am!” rang out from all the Alliance personnel present. 

The chaos quickly resumed as marines rushed to their stations. Vasquez moved to return to the Kodiak, only to stop in their tracks when they felt a hand wrap around their upper arm. They glanced over their shoulder to see Erin.

“What are you doing?" she demanded.

"My job," they said simply.

"There are other pilots—"

Vasquez cut her off, "None that can do what I can." 

"But—"

"Erin, it has to be me. This is my job." Vasquez leaned in and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "I'll be okay."

They took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you in a bit,” they said, pulling away before she could say anything else.

Kara came up behind them. “Alright, what’s the plan?” she asked.

“Uhhh…”

“You don’t have a plan?!” Vasquez reached back and thumped Kara in the gut without looking, drawing a yelp from her. “Ow, hey!”

“Not so loud,” they hissed. 

“Well forgive me for being more than a little dismayed to find out that the person who volunteered for this doesn’t have a fucking plan,” Kara snarked.

Vasquez climbed into the shuttle and took their position in the pilot’s seat. “My plan is that we fly to Serrice with Lieutenant Kurin providing navigation, pick up Maggie’s relative and the kids, then come back,” they said.

“That’s it?” Kara demanded. “That’s your actual plan?” 

“Yup,” Vasquez confirmed, starting up the shuttle.

“Well,” Kurin drawled. “It’s not the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

Vasquez glanced over as she took the co-pilot’s seat. “Yeah? What’s the worst one you’ve ever heard then?” they asked.

“Charging a Krogan Warlord armed with only a fork.” 

Vasquez blinked. “Excuse me?”

Kurin shrugged. “Blood Pack incursion on Hesperia back in 2083,” she said. “Leader of my squad got it in her head that she was gonna charge Weyloc Grul whilst armed with only a fork because her knife had broken the day before.”

“That’s insane,” Kara muttered.

Another shrug from Kurin. “It worked, which means Lieutenant Vasquez’s plan can too,” she said. “Speaking of which, you almost done?”

“Initiating final checks right now,” Vasquez said. “LC, close the hatch.”

“Roger that.”

Vasquez opened the Kodiak’s communications channel. “Kodiak to Normandy control,” they said.

Nia’s voice cracked through,  _ “We read you Kodiak.” _

“Final checks have been completed. Away team is on board. Are we clear to depart?”

_ “Board is green. You are clear to depart Kodiak,”  _ Nia said.  _ “Godspeed and don’t you dare be late.” _

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Kodiak out.”

Kurin pulled up the navigation display with the requisite information and slid it over to Vasquez. 

Vasquez looked it over and nodded. They keyed up the thrusters and counted to three. Then, the Kodiak was gone. 

-

The second the Kodiak hit Serrice airspace, the navigation display cut out.

Vasquez let out a frustrated breath. “Of fucking course,” they grumbled. “Lieutenant Kurin, I’m assuming you know where the Vasir compound is and that you can find it without a navigation display?”

“Affirmative.” Kurin leaned forward. “It’s in the middle of Serrice. Just look for the spire.”

“Spire?” Vasquez heard Kara ask from behind them.

“Yeaah,” Kurin drew out. “The Vasir family compound is less of a compound and more of, well, let’s just say that it definitely stands out in the Serrice skyline.”

Vasquez pulled up the holographic windows. It didn’t take them long to spot the spire Kurin had mentioned. Kurin hadn’t been kidding, it definitely stood out. Even from a distance, the whole structure spoke of power and prestige.

Vasquez let out a low whistle. “That’s a house?” they asked.

“A house that’s been growing for over three millennia,” Kurin confirmed. “They’re the oldest, most powerful family in Serrice. There’ve been rumours that they can trace their line back to Matriarch Dilinaga.”

Vasquez would have been impressed by that, had they not spotted the tell-tell sign of an explosion and the enormous amount of smoke that followed it.

“That looked bad,” Kara said.

Vasquez pulled up the Kodiak’s sensor readings and swore. “Fuck.” They glanced at Kurin. “Does the Vasir compound have an outer wall?”

She nodded. “It does, three of them.”

“Great, because it looks like Reaper forces just breached the first one,” Vasquez said. “Is there any way we can raise the house?”

“Long range communications are out on this side of the planet,” Kurin said. “You would need something that’s shortwave.”

Vasquez frowned. “Kara, how did House Vasir get the message to Maggie?” they asked.

“Brainy said it came through from an omni-tool back channel,” Kara said.

Vasquez grimaced. Trying to ping a single omni-tool in the middle of all of this was going to be next to impossible. 

“That’s not gonna work for us then,” they said.

Kara pulled up her own omni-tool. “It might actually,” she said. “I can link in with the Kodiak’s systems to boost the range of mine. It’d still be on a shortwave channel, which should let us get past the interference the Reapers are throwing up.”

Both Vasquez and Kurin turned to stare at Kara.

“How do you know how to do that?” Vasquez asked slowly.

“I double majored in communications and physics, with an emphasis in quantum mechanics. Never really thought I’d do anything with them other than earn my commission but,” Kara shrugged, “here we are.”

There was something in Kara’s eyes that told Vasquez that she wasn’t telling them the full truth. They didn’t have the time to push the matter further, though. Not with the clock ticking down and the growing Reaper presence on the planet.

“Do it,” Vasquez ordered. 

“I’ve been around a little over six hundred years,” Kurin muttered, “and I’ve never thought to do something like that. Didn’t even know it was possible.”

“Yeah, well, doing the impossible might as well be a Danvers family trait,” they said quietly.

“No kidding-”

“Connection established,” Kara interrupted. 

Vasquez pulled up the holographic display again, along with the communications interface. “Raise the house now,” they said.

“Roger that.” A couple of beeps, followed by the hiss of static and a small, annoyed growl from Kara. “Dammit. Lieutenant Kurin, adjust the Kodiak’s channel by 2.2 megahertz.”

Kurin nodded. “Adjusting.” 

It wasn’t a big change, but it was just what they needed to cut through the Reaper interference.

The radio crackled to life,  _ “—Lupita Vasir, is there anyone on this frequency? I repeat—anyone on this frequency?” _

Vasquez nodded to Kara to answer while they kept flying and Kurin kept navigating.

“Lady Vasir, we read you. This is Lieutenant Commander Danvers with the SSV Normandy, over,” Kara said. 

_ “The Normandy? Oh thank the Goddess!” _

For half of a second, the corners of Vasquez’s lips twitched into something that resembled a small smile. Hearing genuine relief in someone’s voice was such a rarity these days. It promptly faded when reality roughly shouldered its way back to Vasquez’s mind when Lupita’s next statement registered with their brain.

_ “We’re located in the central portion of the compound, but we can’t hold out much longer. If the inner walls are breached we’ll—” _

They would have nowhere else to go. They would be surrounded without any place to hide, easy pickings for the Reapers and their troops.

Vasquez looked over the sensor readings, then out the holographic windows towards the Vasir estate. They did the math in their head: even with the speed they were pushing the Kodiak at, it would still take them at least five minutes to get there. That was time Lupita Vasir and the children under her care didn’t have, not with the Reaper forces mobbing the place.

“Vasquez.” Kara’s voice was quiet. The soft pulse of her omnitool was the only sign they had that Lupita was still on the line, but that she couldn’t hear anything on their end.

Vasquez bit their lip. Their hand flexed unconsciously. They wouldn’t make it in time. They were the best damn pilot in the entirety of the Alliance fleet, save for Nia, and they still wouldn’t be able to get the Kodiak over to the Vasir estate in time. 

“Sensors say those walls have two minutes, Kara. I’m going as fast as I can and I still need five to get there,” they said.

“What about FTL?” she asked. 

That wasn’t an option. FTL below atmosphere was a great way to get your shuttle ripped apart. Vasquez had heard the final records of pilots who had tried back during the First Contact War. The half-second scream and crushing silence that followed it haunted their nightmares for months after flight school.

“The Kodiak can only get to FTL once we leave the atmosphere.”

"Can this thing do a sub-FTL burst jump?” Kurin asked suddenly.

Vasquez’s head snapped to her, not quite sure they had heard her correctly. Her expectant look told them that they had. They swallowed. “I mean, in theory she  _ can _ .” Theoretically, any FTL-capable craft could. “I’d level half the buildings in the area pulling it off, though.”

Which would likely kill any civilians that were hiding in them, if there were still any.

They didn’t miss the way Kurin’s jaw tightened. “My planet is already on fire and the Reapers are destroying everything in their path. A few leveled buildings from a sub-FTL jump is nothing, especially if it means we get to House Vasir before Reaper forces breach through the last wall.”

Vasquez couldn’t argue with that.

“Vas,” Kara interrupted. “What am I telling Lady Vasir?”

Vasquez’s jaw clenched so tightly at the question, they were surprised that their teeth didn’t immediately turn to dust.

“Tell her to prepare for an evac in 90 seconds,” they said, hands moving to prepare the Kodiak. 

“90 seconds?” Kara asked, incredulous. 

Vasquez started a secondary timer. “90 seconds.”

-

Alex had a death grip on the railing above the galaxy map as the Normandy rolled to avoid another shot from an Oculus. Once upon a time, a move like that would have her fighting back a wave of nausea. Now, all it did was make her angry.

“Nia, blow that damn Oculus out of the sky already!” she shouted.

_ “I’M TRYING!” _

“You’re the one who says she’s the best pilot in the whole damn fleet so try harder!” She slapped the comm panel nearby. “Mon-el, what’s the status in the cargo bay?”

_ “The last shuttle is back from Armali, Commander. All Matriarchs are accounted for.” _

Alex let out a breath. Well, that was one thing going her way. 

“Great, get them to the medbay as needed.”

_ “Roger that. Mon-el out.” _

She glanced over to the comms station, where Eve and Erin were frantically sorting through the various messages and reports coming in. Alex felt a pang of guilt at having had pulled Erin up onto the crew deck to work alongside Eve, but she needed all the hands she could get right now.

“Tessmacher, King, any-” The Normandy shook as it got hit by the blastwave of an Asari cruiser taking a hit from another Oculus- “any word from Vasquez and the Kodiak?”

Alex could see the way Erin’s jaw clenched at the question.

“Negative, Commander,” Eve said. “That could just be because of our position, though.”

The Normandy shook again. Alex’s stomach flew up into her throat as Nia made the ship dive down, likely to try and shake the enemy. Not for the first time, was she thankful that she’d had the foresight to keep her hardsuit on and maglock her boots to the deck. 

Moments later, she heard Erin shouting, “Commander, the Nefrane is reporting that its shields are down to 30 percent! Geth and Quarian Heavy Fleets are starting to report losses as well!”

Son of a bitch.

Alex looked at the timer that was slowly ticking down above the galaxy map. Five minutes. That was all the time that was left, both for the ships she had commandeered and for Vasquez.

“Tessmacher, relay the following to the Asari, Quarian, and Geth fleets,” she started, “Disengage and reposition over Serrice. We’ll jump to the Relay from there.”

With the Matriarchs onboard, there was no point in staying over Armali.

“Yes, Commander.”

“King, try and raise the Kodiak. Let Lieutenant Vasquez know we’ll be there in four.”

“Understood.” There was something in Erin’s voice that told Alex there was more that she wanted to say, but that she knew this wasn’t the time to say it.

“Nia! Forget the Oculus, get the Normandy to Serrice, now!”

“Aye aye, Commander!”

Alex closed her eyes and prayed that the Kodiak would be there when they arrived.

-

A common misconception about faster-than-light flight was that it was easy. Anyone who actually flew an FTL-capable ship with any regularity would tell you that it most definitely was  _ not _ . Calculating an FTL jump that wouldn’t result in you, your ship, and your crew getting torn to pieces required a great deal of math and a liberal application of quantum physics. Luckily for pilots across the galaxy, in most cases, those calculations could be made with a VI. 

Sub-FTL jumps--jumps made at speeds that were just under faster-than-light speeds but still relied on the manipulations of space-time--were the one exception. Those calculations contained so many variables that even the most advanced VIs on the market returned error codes instead of coordinates. That meant any pilot that wanted to make such a jump was stuck doing it in their head. 

That, Vasquez mused to themself as they prepared the Kodiak for the jump, was probably why only a handful of pilots in the fleet had ever made a sub-FTL jump. 

“You ever done one of these before?” Kurin asked.

“In a Kodiak, no.” As far as they knew, no one had ever made a sub-FTL jump in a Kodiak. “Last time I did this I was in a Trident on the Citadel trying to get a squadron of Geth fighters off my ass.”

“So, what does that mean for us, then?” Kara asked.

Vasquez entered the coordinates and rerouted power to the drive core. “It means I’m done, so hold on.”

“Wait, what—” 

They punched it before Kara could finish her question. Vasquez heard a brief yelp that was quickly smothered by the roar of a space folding around the Kodiak. 

Almost immediately, alarms started blaring around them.

“Uhhh Vas…” Kara warned.

Vasquez forced themself to stay relaxed despite the noise. “It’s fine, LC,” they said, not taking their eyes off the small pinprick of red in the distance.

The Kodiak began shaking and creaking, as if to spite their words. Vasquez had to fight the urge to glare at the ceiling.

“Are you sure about that?!”

“I’m with Lieutenant Commander Danvers on that one,” Vasquez heard Kurin murmur next to them.

Vasquez’s hands moved quickly to shut off the alarms. “It’s just the effect of Thessia’s gravity and the fact that there are things like buildings in my way!”

They weren’t actually in the way. Vasquez was going  _ through _ a good chunk of them, not that they would tell Kara that.

The rumbling increased. Vasquez could only guess at the level of destruction they were leaving in their wake as they raced towards the Vasir compound.

“So the shaking and shit is normal?” Kara questioned.

“Perfectly normal,” Vasquez lied.

They actually had no idea if this level of chaos was normal. Their last sub-FTL jump had been choppy and loud, but nothing to this magnitude. Granted, the Citadel’s artificial gravity had been off and the Presidium didn’t have buildings like Thessia, which could have been why that ride had been smoother in comparison to this one.

The small pinprick of red in the distance got infinitesimally brighter. Vasquez’s hands moved in response.

“Dropping from sub-FTL,” they announced. “Brace yourselves!”

The red dot turned into a full-blown sunset as the Kodiak dropped out of the space-time tunnel it had been flying through. There was a brief pause as Vasquez, Kara, and Kurin took in the sight of the Vasir compound in its full glory in the evening sunlight.

Then gravity reasserted itself in full.

The Kodiak plummeted towards the ground.

“Goddess!”

“Oh, sweet merciful Rao!”

“Fuck!”

Vasquez’s hands were a blur as they worked to get to the secondary thruster control display.

“VASQUEZ!!” Kara shouted.

“Almost got it!” Vasquez found the display that they needed. “Got it!”

They threw the secondary thrusters on at full blast. The tell-tale sound of something getting shredded by said thrusters came across the Kodiak’s audio emulators. A quick check of the sensors had Vasquez wincing. 

“Ugh, a husk. That’s gonna be a bitch to get out of the Kodiak’s thruster coils,” they grumbled.

“Bitch about it later,” Kurin snapped. “We have to get to Lady Vasir and the children.”

“Right.” Vasquez nodded. “Kara, how far are we from them?”

“20 meters.” A few beeps of an omni-tool were all it took for the directions to show up on Vasquez’s display.

Vasquez triggered the primary thrusters and started in the direction Kara sent them. “Radio Lady Vasir and tell her we have an ETA of ten seconds,” they said.

The wall exploded behind them. 

“Think you can make it in five?” Kurin asked. The slightly desperate edge to her voice told Vasquez that she wasn’t completely joking.

“If you want to be paste, sure,” Vasquez snarked. “Do me a favour and run barrier support around the Kodiak. I can punch through the Reaper line and give us a few more seconds of breathing room that way.”

“Understood.”

The holographic windows flickered blue before returning to normal, the only sign that Kurin had thrown a barrier around the shuttle. The added barrier around the Kodiak allowed it to send mobs of Reaper troops flying as Vasquez cut a path towards the glowing blue bubble ahead.

“I thought it was just one adult and a bunch of kids,” Vasquez muttered.

Despite the situation, Kurin chuckled. “The current Lady Vasir is a powerful biotic, probably one of the most powerful human biotics on record, and all Asari are trained from youth to use their biotics in a defensive capacity,” she said.

“That training for moments like this?” Vasquez asked dryly.

“No.”

The sensors started shrieking.

“Son of a bitch,” Vasquez hissed. “Kara, Brute four o’clock!”

“On it!” 

Vasquez heard the thunk of a gauntleted hand smacking against the trigger mechanism. Moments later, a loud roar sounded from their left. It wasn’t the noise of battle. It was the noise of pure chaos, the kind of chaos that could only be found in places that were never meant to be warzones.

“Do all humans produce light beams from their eyes?” Vasquez heard Kurin ask.

“What?” Vasquez looked over their shoulder to see Kara heat visioning the incoming Brute. Even though they couldn’t see Kara’s face, they could feel her fury. It was as impressive as it was terrifying. “Uh, no, I think that’s just a Kara thing.”

“Huh.” 

“Yup.” Vasquez turned their attention back to the landing zone ahead of them. “Alright! Kodiak has arrived! Kurin, keep up the barrier! Kara, move!”

“Roger that!” “Got it!”

Kara was gone in a flash. Vasquez did their best to keep the Kodiak steady as she travelled back and forth between the hovering shuttle and the ground. As much as it likely would have made things easier for everyone involved, Vasquez couldn’t place the Kodiak on the ground. The time they would need to get her airborne again was time they didn’t have.

It felt like an eternity before Kara returned for the last time, a human woman in her arms. “That’s everyone!” she announced. “Let’s move!”

“Way ahead of you, LC.” Vasquez started making adjustments to get the Kodiak into space. “Start trying to radio the Normandy, let them know that-”

They found themself cut off by a scream that was audible even above the roar of the gathered Reaper forces. It immediately sent the hairs on the back of Vasquez’s neck rising. 

“What the fuck,” Vasquez murmured.

The scream echoed again, closer this time. Despite the heat of the shuttle, Vasquez broke out into a cold sweat. It sounded nothing like the rest of the noises made by various Reaper troops they had encountered. The moans and grunts husks and Cannibals and hell, even  _ Brutes _ , had an organic component to them. That scream, though? Vasquez couldn’t picture  _ any _ organic throat producing it. It was like the sound of metal scraping across dozens of rocks at the wrong angle, magnified by a thousand.

“Banshee,” Kurin grunted out. 

“What?”

“It’s a Banshee. If there’s one, then there’s-” Kurin’s knees buckled as a biotic explosion against the barrier surrounding the Kodiak sent it rolling- “Goddess! There’s others.”

“Oh fuck.” 

Vasquez knew what Banshees were and what they could do. They knew from the reports that it would take an entire squad just to take down one. If there was more than one? Unless you had Alex Danvers on your squad, you were fucked. 

With Alex up on the Normandy, Vasquez was well and truly fucked. The Kodiak’s armour plating and shields wouldn’t be able to withstand more than a blast or two from a Banshee, let alone multiple Banshees.

“I can buy you time,” Kurin grit out.

Vasquez’s head snapped to her. “Wait, what?”

Kurin rose to her feet and pushed past the group of children, biotics glowing brightly against her skin. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Vasquez demanded.

Kurin didn’t so much as glance back at them. “Like I said, I’m buying you time,” she said. “The Reaper forces, especially the Banshees will prioritise me over the shuttle. While they’re focused on me, you leave.”

Blood pounded against Vasquez’s ears. “I won’t be able to come back and get you once we’re in the air!”

Surely, Kurin had to know that.

“Lieutenant Vasquez, that’s enough.” Kara’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “Lieutenant Kurin, are you sure?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Alright, good luck. And make sure to give them hell.”

The grin that Vasquez spotted was sharp as knives. “I’ll give them more than that.”

And with that, Kurin dropped down to the ground. The barrier around the Kodiak expanded, blasting away even more husks and Cannibals and even stopped a Brute in its tracks.

“GO, NOW!” Vasquez heard Kurin shout. 

“Kara-” Vasquez tried.

Kara got into the now-empty navigator’s chair. “You heard her, Lieutenant. Get us out of here.”

Vasquez finally realised where they had heard that tight, sharp tone before: Alex, or more specifically, it was Alex’s command voice. 

They clenched their teeth. “Aye aye, ma’am,” they grit out. “Everyone, buckle up! It’s gonna be close!”

-

“Anything?”

Erin looked up from the console she was manning and shook her head. “No, still nothing from the Kodiak, Commander.”

“Dammit. Brainy-”

_ “The Normandy’s sensors have not detected the Kodiak, Commander.” _

“Commander, the Asari Second Fleet’s right flank is starting to buckle!” Eve called out.

Erin saw Alex close her eyes. 

“That’s it…” It was barely a whisper.

Erin’s brow furrowed. Surely Alex wasn’t about to do what Erin thought she was.

“We’re pulling back to the Relay. Nia, signal the fleet to retreat.”

Erin felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“What? No!” Mon-el protested. “Vasquez and Kara are still down there!”

“We’re out of time! The longer we stay here, the more damage the fleet takes,” Alex retorted. “If we want to retake Earth, we’re going to need every ship we can spare.”

Erin couldn’t stop herself, “Commander-”

Alex shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” She took a breath. “Nia, Brainy, signal the retreat. Now.”

_ “Yes, Commander.” _

-

Kurin waited for the Kodiak to clear her barrier before she let it drop. Everything stilled around her. The crowd seethed, but otherwise made no moves, as if waiting for her to move first.

“Alright, your mistake,” she muttered.

She flared her biotics and let out a yell that was matched by the Reaper troops. She unleashed a vicious biotic blast that incinerated the husks closest to her and sent several squads of Cannibals sprawling. She allowed herself a brief second to enjoy the sight before spotting a Brute charging her way. 

She quickly threw a warp that staggered it, then charged. The sonic boom she produced cleared a path as she shot towards the Brute. When she connected it with seconds later, the biotic explosion punched a hole in the Brute’s chest.

Without missing a beat, Kurin rolled out of the way to avoid its metal corpse crashing down. 

A Banshee’s scream rang out. 

Kurin barely managed to keep from flinching at the sound. Then, to her horror, its shriek was echoed by a dozen or so more, each promising excrutating torture if they got their malformed hands on her.

She would die before she let that happen.

Kurin took a breath to steady herself. Even though she was surrounded by countless monsters that wanted to tear her apart, she took the time to close her eyes and picture her squad while she set about creating a massive Singularity around her. 

Elune’s cheeky grin. 

Calis’ exasperated smile. 

Tashya and Weshra’s arms around her shoulders.

She allowed herself a brief moment of peace to enjoy the mental image one last time before the unholy chorus of Banshees forced her eyes open. 

The Banshees had closed in. For once, the sight of ill-proportioned bodies and twisted faces made her smile. 

She raised her arms, expanding the Singularity.

One of the Banshees, who Kurin assumed to be the leader of the pack from the number of branches on its head, shrieked. It was almost as if it was offended to see a living Asari smiling in the face of certain death.

Kurin brought her hands together. “We are not your slaves,” she said coldly.

The Reaper troops gathered around made their outrage heard, but there was nothing any of them could do in the face of a collapsing gravity well. The dark energy Kurin unleashed obliterated the Banshees outright and shredded the others. 

She watched husks turn to dust, watched Cannibals paw at themselves as they crumbled, watched as Brutes simply fell apart because the dark energy had eaten away at whatever unholy technology that had kept them together up until that point. She watched and grit her teeth as the energy tore through her as well. Despite the pain, she forced herself to stay focused in order to keep the collapsing Singularity under control. If she didn’t, she risked the Kodiak getting caught in its pull. 

Kurin waited until the final Cannibal crumbled to drop down onto a knee. It was hard to breathe. She coughed once and grimaced at the taste of blood on her tongue. She didn’t need a medic to know that this was it.

She looked up at the evening sky. Even with her vision starting to grey around the edges, she could just make out the blue glow of the Kodiak’s thrusters in the distance. 

Kurin nodded at the sight. She clenched her fist to stop the Singularity’s collapse. The gravity well sputtered once, twice, then unleashed a final wave that sent her to the ground. 

Compared to being ripped apart by dark energy on a molecular level, the pain of her body hitting the ground was negligible. Kurin didn’t really care either way, though. The Kodiak was safe. Lady Vasir and her children were safe. That was all that mattered. She might not have been able to save her squad, but in the end she saved those most vulnerable of her people.

Kurin’s eyes slipped shut. 

-

Vasquez had barely cleared the Vasir estate’s property line when a new set of alarms started blaring. 

Dread filled Vasquez. They knew exactly what that particular set of alarms meant. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I take it you know what those mean?” Kara asked.

“Yeah, Reapers.” Vasquez pulled up the alerting display and paled. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit? What do you mean ‘oh shit’?” she demanded.

Vasquez started flipping through screens until they got to navigation. The display might not have been working because of the Reaper interference, but the system itself still was. 

“Reapers are on an intercept course,” they said. 

“What does that mean for us?”

Vasquez slid the display over to Kara so she could look at it. “It means we’re gonna be Reaper fodder if we keep on the current path at the current speed.”

“Yeah, okay that’s not an option. Next plan?” 

“We increase our speed and bypass the Normandy and aim for the Relay instead,” Vasquez replied. 

“Kodiaks can go through relays?” Kara sounded genuinely curious.

Vasquez shrugged. “Ehh…technically, yeah, but it’s more of a ‘one time only’ kind of deal,” they muttered. “And we’ll have the added issue of not being able to do a precision jump because I plan on hitting that thing at FTL.”

Hitting a mass relay at faster-than-light speeds normally wouldn’t be a problem if Vasquez were flying an actual ship. Ships had the mass to withstand a jump like that. Most smaller craft did not. The Kodiak sort of did, but the strain of the jump meant that they wouldn’t be able to do it a second time. 

Kara glanced behind her to where Maggie’s aunt and all the children sat. “I have a fix for that,” she said.

Vasquez’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” They looked at Kara and saw her pull up her omni-tool. “Kara, no omni-tool has the processing power required to run the navigation-correction coordinates for a precision FTL jump.”

“I’m not using my omni-tool for that, I’m uploading Konex,” she said.

Konex?

“What’s Kon-”

_ “Awaiting your orders Lady Kara.” _

Lady Kara?

Vasquez’s brow furrowed, both at the title and at the way the program spoke. The voice was synthetic and there were obvious emotional inflections in its tone. Those also had a synthetic tinge to them though, which meant…

Vasquez felt their jaw drop. “LC, please, for the love of god, tell me you did not just plug an AI into my shuttle!”

“Konex is harmless. Mostly,” Kara said.

“ _ Mostly _ ?!” Vasquez couldn’t stop the shrill note their voice took. 

“Look, he’s what we need to make sure we get to the Relay in one piece, alright?” she defended. “Konex, you can make adjustments to correct a flight path that involves assisted faster-than-light travel, correct?”

_ “Yes, Lady Kara, I can--alert: hostile presence detected! Hostile weaponry detected! Hostile weaponry locking on to this craft!” _

“What?” Vasquez’s head snapped back to their sensor displays. “Shit! Hang on, pulling evasive maneuvers!”

Vasquez felt a stab of guilt as the Asari children screamed in the background while they sent the Kodiak rolling to avoid the blast of a Reaper’s beam. They set the thrusters to full throttle to break through Thessia’s atmosphere.

“Konex, get us out of here!” Kara ordered.

_ “Please specify a destination, Lady Kara.” _

“ANYWHERE BUT HERE!” Vasquez shouted.

_ “That is not a valid-” _

“Parnitha Relay, coordinates 334.35 by 678.439, with a final transit point of any system but this one!” Kara rushed out.

_ “Acknowledged. Prepare for jump.” _

“Jump? What does he mean by jump?” Vasquez demanded. “We just got through Thessia’s atmosphere! The Kodiak isn’t at the speed to be able to jump to FTL just yet-”

The Kodiak went silent around them, cutting Vasquez off. They couldn’t even hear themself breathe. Their stomach flew up to their throat as the shuttle froze, then shot across the system. 

Vasquez barely had time to process that an AI had somehow triggered the Kodiak’s FTL system and thrown it towards the Parnitha Relay before it came into view. They almost let out a whoop of relief at the sight. Then they noticed it was getting bigger and that the Kodiak wasn’t slowing down. 

“Uhhh Kara, you might want to tell Konex to give me back control of my shuttle and slow us down,” they said.

_ “Negative. Reducing the speed of this vessel now would result in its destruction due to the concentrated enemy presence in the area,”  _ Konex retorted. 

“You’re going to get us torn apart!” They could see the flight path that Konex had planned now. “You jumped us from Thessia at FTL! The Kodiak doesn’t have the mass required to do a double jump at FTL, let alone if a mass relay’s involved!”

The Kodiak was capable of  _ limited  _ faster-than-light travel. Those limits did not include multiple FTL jumps within a short succession and it most definitely did  _ not _ include a mass relay jump at FTL speeds. It was why their original plan had involved pushing the Kodiak to FTL once they were closer to the Relay. They didn’t want to risk tearing the Kodiak apart, especially because they had already pushed her to her limits with a sub-FTL jump.

_ “The necessary adjustments have been made to ensure this vessel’s success.” _

“What the hell are you talking about?” Vasquez demanded.

Konex ignored them.  _ “Intitating jump.” _

Vasquez grit their teeth. Streaks of blue crossed the holographic window display as dark energy from the Parnitha Relay enveloped the Kodiak. They braced themself just in time for everything to go silent and dark.


	10. Waiting is the Hardest Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez and Kara work to get home while Kara reveals some truths about herself. Maggie and Erin have a conversation where Erin learns the full extent of what dating an Alliance officer really entails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are staying safe. Don't forget to wash your hands and practice social distancing. Those are gonna be the biggest ways that we can help improve the outcome not only for ourselves, but for those around us as well.

Erin was numb. Not even the minor jolt of the Normandy going through the Parnitha Relay was enough to restore feeling to the rest of her body.

“Brainy, did the fleets make it through the Relay?” Alex asked.

In any other situation, Erin would have been impressed by how steady Alex was able to keep her voice. All it did right now, though, was make her angry. Did Alex just not care about what she had done? 

_ “Yes, Commander. Republic Fleets One through Nine are accounted for, as is the Quarian Heavy Patrol Fleet and Geth Hubships 618 and 939.” _

“Great.” There was a quiet whine as the maglocks on Alex’s boots finally released, allowing her to step away from the Galaxy Map. She kept her gaze straight ahead as she walked towards the elevator. “Nia, Brainy, let me know when we reach the Citadel. Otherwise, reroute all non-essential comm traffic to my work terminal. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

_ “Understood, Commander.” _

Alex let out a breath and stepped into the elevator, all the while keeping her back to the crew. The doors clanked shut behind her.

Silence reigned on the crew deck. 

“This is such bullshit!” 

The bang that followed Mon-el’s furious declaration made everyone jump.

Erin turned to see Mon-el’s fist buried in a bulkhead; the metal had been dented by the force of his blow. She saw Maggie place her hand on his upper arm, only to be shrugged off by the larger Marine as he stormed off towards the cockpit. 

Erin startled when she felt a hand on her arm. She glanced behind her to see Eve. 

“I’ve got it from here, Erin.” Eve’s voice was soft. 

Erin blinked. “What?”

“The comm channels, I can handle them,” Eve said. “You go take care of whatever you need to. I can manage any incoming communications. It’s kind of my job, anyway.”

“I…” Erin looked at the console she had been working at for almost the last hour. There were at least a dozen more messages from various ships to get through. She knew that Eve was right, that managing military-level communications was more her job than it was Erin’s. But there was a part of Erin that wanted to get through those messages anyway, if only because the work would be monotonous enough to keep her mind from wandering. The last thing she needed right now was for her mind to wander.

“Erin.” Eve’s voice was still soft, but this time there was a slightly firmer edge to it. “I’m serious. You don’t need to be up here."

Erin wanted to argue that she did, she needed something to do other than her actual job because her actual job would have her mind wandering and she couldn't let that happen. Not right now.

As much as she wanted to make that argument, though, the look on Eve's face told her that she wouldn't win.

Erin sighed. "Fine.”

Eve clapped her on the shoulder. “Glad you agree,” she said. “Because if you hadn’t, my next step would’ve been to lock you out of that console and have Westmoreland drag you down to the crew deck.”

The smile that accompanied that statement made two things clear to Erin: first, that the communications specialist definitely would have followed through with that plan, and second, there was a real chance she had done it before. 

“...right,” Erin eventually said. “I’ll go down to the crew deck, then.”

The crew deck had people and noise, both of which could keep her mind occupied.

“Good.”

Erin grabbed her datapad and paused. “Eve?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything comes through about…” she trailed off, unable to bring herself to finish.

“You’ll be the first to know,” Eve reassured her.

A small smile made its way to Erin’s lips. It was weak, but it was the first smile she had cracked in hours.

“Thanks.”

-

Vasquez grunted as the Kodiak jolted to a stop. 

“Well,” they coughed out, “that sucked. LC, any idea where your AI dropped us?”

No response. 

Vasquez’s brow furrowed. They activated their omni-tool to help take a better look at Kara to check and make sure she had survived the trip. A cursory glance told them that she was still breathing, though something seemed off about it. It almost seemed louder than it should have been.

It took them a moment to figure out why they could hear Kara’s breathing as clearly as they could: the Kodiak was dead silent.

“Shit.”

Silence was the worst possible thing to hear when you were in a vessel whilst in space. It meant that something was wrong, that you and everyone else around you were in danger. Right now, it meant the Kodiak wasn’t moving. It meant that they were trapped in space without any idea as to where they were.

The only thing that kept Vasquez from focusing too much on that was the sound of Kara’s breathing growing heavier. The obviously panicked tinge to it had them scrambling to undo their seat harness.

“Crap, Kara!” 

Vasquez was by Kara’s side in seconds, hands fumbling to undo her seat harness. They turned their omni-tool off as so not to blind Kara whilst they were working. They didn’t need the light of the omni-tool anyway; they knew their shuttle like the back of their hand. 

It didn’t take Vasquez long to realise that while they might not have needed the light to work,  _ Kara _ did. Kara’s breathing rapidly increased as the darkness and still silence inside the Kodiak re-engulfed the two of them. 

“Hang on, Kara,” Vasquez urged. They moved their hand to trigger their omni-tool, blinking back tears at the sudden change in light. “Better?”

There was no verbal response from Kara, but her breathing eased somewhat. Vasquez would take it as an affirmative answer. 

Vasquez moved their hand towards the cargo area. “The rest of you make it?”

A chorus of, “Yes, Lieutenant” rang out. Another shift of their hand confirmed the noise. All twelve Asari children looked to be fine, physically at least, and Lady Vasir certainly looked no worse for wear. 

Vasquez turned their attention back to the still-panicking Lieutenant Commander. They kept their omni-tool on as they finished undoing the harness holding her in the seat. Her breathing slowed a bit more, but it was still too fast for Vasquez’s liking. Without the drive core active, there would only be a limited supply of oxygen available inside the shuttle until they managed to get it back on. If Vasquez couldn’t get Kara’s panic attack to stop, she would burn through the Kodiak’s oxygen before Vasquez could even start trying rerouting power to expand the currently limited life support functions.

They wracked their brain for a solution. The darkness and silence appeared to have triggered Kara’s attack. Their omni-tool brought some light into the shuttle, but only enough to illuminate themself and Kara. There was nothing Vasquez could about the lack of sound with the drive core offline. They still had auxiliary power, though. 

“I’m gonna move back to my seat, Kara,” they said. “Just hang in there, alright? I’m gonna try something.”

Vasquez sat down and used their omni-tool to tap into the Kodiak’s base functions. It didn’t take them long to find the holographic window interface. On more than one occasion, they had wondered why such a thing was even included on the most advanced shuttle in the fleet, especially when no other Kodiak even had the function. Now, they were grateful for it and the fact that it could run on auxiliary power.

It took a few seconds for the screens to come online. When they did, a soft glow filled the Kodiak. 

Vasquez heard Kara’s breathing ease. “You good, Kara?” they asked.

“Yeah,” Kara rasped out, “yeah, I’m good.”

Vasquez was inclined to believe her given that her breathing, while still heavy, was no longer erratic. 

“So,” they drew out, “something you’d like to share with the ship?”

"After we figure out where we ended up," Kara said. "Konex, are you there?"

It was a simple enough question. Still, Vasquez couldn't help but notice the slightly fearful note in Kara's voice, as if she were afraid that the AI wouldn't answer. 

_ "Yes, Lady Kara." _

Kara's shoulders slumped in relief. "Oh, thank Rao. Are you okay?"

_ "I am functioning within acceptable parameters, Lady Kara. However, I have had to reduce my functionality due to limited power constraints." _

That didn't sound good.

"Can you tell us where we are?" Kara asked.

_ "I cannot."  _ If Vasquez didn't know any better, the AI sounded almost apologetic.  _ "My current sensory capabilities are severely reduced at this moment." _

"What if you hooked into the Kodiak's navigation system? Would that help?" 

Vasquez shook their head. "That's gonna be a no go, LC. Navigation's tied to the main power frame. Until the drive core comes back online, we can't use it and neither can Konex."

"Whose brilliant engineering idea was that one?" Kara demanded.

Vasquez shrugged. "When I find out, you'll be the first person I tell because believe me, there are a number of design decisions that I have an issue with."

Like the lack of fire power, for one.

Kara let out a frustrated breath that Vasquez sympathised with.

"What about stellar navigation?" she asked.

Vasquez frowned. "What, you mean like using the actual stars to figure out where we are?” 

Kara nodded.

“I guess?” Vasquez gave a cautious shrug. “Hope you have access to star charts, though, because I don’t carry any on my omni-tool and neither does the Kodiak.”

"That’s fine. Konex has them. Right, Konex?" Kara asked.

_ "Yes, Lady Kara. Those charts are stored within my memory banks and require little power to access. However, it should be noted that any charts accessed were acquired 17.3 /lorakh/ ago.” _

Vasquez had no idea what a /lorakh/ was, but it didn’t seem to be a good thing if the way Kara deflated was anything to go by.

“/Shisir/,” Kara muttered.

“Uh, galactic basic please?”.

“Konex has star charts, but they’re about 24 years out of date,” she said.

Vasquez exhaled at the news. “Well,” they started, “that’s not…great.”

That was an understatement. If those charts were from a year or two ago, Vasquez would have still been able to use them; they just would have had to take things like stellar drift and minor space-time fluctuations into account while trying to work out their location. Charts from 24 years ago, though? Those were useless. Between the number of starship wrecks, supernovas, the handful of planetary collisions that had occurred across a number of systems in that time period, and the war itself, Vasquez might as well have been trying to plot a course with a slide ruler.

“Um,” a voice piped up from the back. Both Vasquez and Kara turned as one to glance in its direction to see one of the Asari children standing. “I have star charts from before the war on my omni-tool.”

She had all of Vasquez’s attention.

“How far from before?” they demanded.

“Uh, six galactic standard months?”

Vasquez raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me or telling me, kid?” They yelped a second later when Kara punched them in the shoulder. “Ow, hey! What was that for?”

“Don’t be an ass,” Kara hissed. 

“I’m telling you that they’re from six galactic standard months ago,” the girl said, firmer this time. “And it’s not  _ kid _ , it’s Ushae T’Ezri.”

Vasquez and Kara traded looks. “Can you work with that?” she asked.

Vasquez nodded. “I can work with that.” They glanced back at Ushae. “Alright, Ms. T’Ezri, you’re up. Our ability to figure out where we are and get home depends entirely on you and your omni-tool. So, you know, no pressure.”

Vasquez pointedly ignored Kara thumping them in the arm again while Ushae muttered, “Right.”

Ushae’s omni-tool lit up as she brought up multiple star charts. Vasquez looked over them all.

“We can eliminate any systems that have red or blue stars as their main solar bodies,” they muttered. “And also solar systems with relays in them.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep those in?” Kara asked.

“No.” Vasquez shook their head. “Konex had us make a double jump. If this were a regular sized ship, we would’ve been able to stop at the next relay. Unfortunately, the lighter mass of the Kodiak means we hit the next relay and kept going at FTL until the drive core triggered its emergency shutdown procedure.”

“Well, shit.”

“Mhm,” Vasquez hummed, eyes still on the some 30 remaining star charts.

_ “Lieutenant Vasquez, I believe it would also be prudent to eliminate systems whose relay routes do not immediately connect to Parnitha Relay.” _

“Yeah, good point,” Vasquez agreed. 

And just like that, the number of star charts shrank down to two. 

“Ushae, did these charts also come with system-specific constellations?” they asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” she confirmed.

Vasquez flicked a glance out the holographic windows. “Pull up the constellation map for the Boltzmann system, please.”

“What’re you thinking, Vas?” Kara asked. They could hear the frown in her voice.

“You see that collection of stars right there?” Vasquez pointed to a cluster of four stars that formed a shape almost like an arrow. “I think I recognise the constellation they form, I just want to be sure.”

“Here you go, Lieutenant,” Ushae said.

Vasquez transferred the map to their omni-tool and held it up. “There we go.” They nodded. “That’s Cassius Orais, which means we are definitely in the Boltzmann system. And, as an added bonus, the fact that we can see it means that we landed in the vicinity of Bekenstein.”

“How can you be sure?” Kara asked.

Vasquez smiled slightly. “Because a few weeks back, Erin was telling me about the constellations she could see when she lived on Bekenstein,” they replied. “She said that even with all the light pollution, Cassius Orais is the one constellation you can see no matter what. And in space, it’s only visible when you’re over or near Bekenstein; if we’d landed anywhere else in Boltzmann, we wouldn’t be able to see it.”

Kara took a closer look at the map being projected from Vasquez’s omni-tool, then at the constellation in the holographic window. “There a chance we can blow the image up on these things?” she asked.

“Yeah, give me a sec.” Before Vasquez could move to make the adjustments, the image zoomed in. “What the fuck.”

_ “My apologies, Lieutenant, I believed it more prudent if I were to do it instead.” _

Vasquez huffed. “Warn an enby before you go making adjustments to their shuttle, would you?” they snarked.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Kara murmured, stopping any argument from developing between the AI and the pilot. “The map and image line up perfectly.” She leaned back in her seat. “So, we’ve confirmed our location. Now we just have to get in contact with the Normandy and let everyone know we’re still alive.”

Vasquez tried to hide a grimace. They must have failed, though, because Kara raised an eyebrow.

“What’s with the look, Vas?” she asked.

“We aren’t going to be able to make contact with the Normandy,” they said. “At least, not through conventional means.”

“Why not?”

“The Kodiak’s long range communications system is an experimental QEC channel similar to what the Normandy has, and because QEC requires a larger power draw than the traditional system, it’s tied to the main power system,” they explained. “With the drive core offline, our comms are out too.”

“There has to be a way to make contact with the Fleet,” Kara said.

“A year ago, I would’ve said yes,” Vasquez said. “But Alliance Command just finished a massive overhaul of the Fleet’s communications systems right before the war started.”

“So every ship…” Kara started slowly.

“Is running a QEC system. Great for wartime operations because it allows near-instantaneous encrypted communication with pretty much zero lag time. Not so great for us right now because without power, we can't access those encrypted channels."

Lady Vasir spoke up, “What about a non-encrypted channel?”

Vasquez and Kara turned to look at her. 

“A non-encrypted channel?” Kara raised an eyebrow. 

“When I sent the distress call to Margarita, to Maggie, I sent it using an omni-tool back channel,” she said. “Could that work a second time?”

“No.” Vasquez shook their head. “It would, if we were only like a planet apart instead of an entire system. But Maggie’s comm terminal, private though it may be, it’s on the same QEC network as the rest of the ship which means its encrypted to high hell. I’m fairly certain the only reason your message got through the first time was because Brainy noticed it and rerouted it. The sheer amount of comm traffic means that if we tried it this time, the message would get buried.”

“What about a low-priority channel?” Kara asked. “I know that the Normandy has a few.”

“Those are still encrypted and they have a time delay.”

“Is there anything on the Normandy that  _ isn’t _ encrypted to hell and back?” Kara demanded. 

“She’s the most advanced ship in the fleet, everything is–wait.” Vasquez cut themself off as a thought struck them. “There might be one thing that isn’t encrypted, or at least not as encrypted as everything else.”

“Yeah?” Kara’s eyebrow rose even higher.

“Erin’s omni-tool,” they said.

Vasquez saw Kara blink. “Vas, your girlfriend’s one of the best reporters in the galaxy. I’m fairly certain that thing is under some heavy duty encryption,” she pointed out.

“I know, but-” Vasquez’s omni-tool lit up- “I have the encryption key. Her omni-tool isn’t linked with the Normandy’s comm network. She taps in from time to time when she has high priority messages to send, but it’s not linked. That means in theory, we might be able to make contact that way.”

“I am all for any plan that will eventually get us to the Normandy,” Lady Vasir said. “However, I cannot help but notice two problems with it, the first being that it is a long range call so to speak and therefore something that requires QEC, which this ship does not currently have-”

“Yeah, I was kind of hoping I could use Konex to boost the signal from my omni-tool,” Vasquez cut in, not unkindly. “I mean, a super fancy AI has to have some tricks up his sleeves–er, circuits?”

Kara frowned. “Konex?”

_ “It should be possible to facilitate Lieutenant Vasquez’s attempt using the hyperstream to boost the signal, even with the limited power supply available.” _

“Not the most concrete response, but it’s better than nothing,” Vasquez mused. They turned their attention back to Lady Vasir. “What’s the second issue?”

“This whole plan relies entirely on the assumption that the Normandy made it out.”

Vasquez’s mouth went dry. “Yeah, well, it does that because I’m fairly certain she did,” they eventually said.

“Lieutenant-” she tried.

Vasquez cut her off, “Lady Vasir, with all due respect, you know your niece and I know the ship that she serves on. Both are incredibly resilient and both of them made it out in one piece.”

“...alright. Then I’ll leave you and Lieutenant Commander Danvers to do your thing then.” Lady Vasir tipped her head and stepped back into the crew bay.

“That was rude,” Kara muttered. 

Vasquez couldn’t bring themself to care. “Just help me rig Konex up for this, will you, LC?” they asked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two of them worked quickly to set up Vasquez’s omni-tool. Vasquez pulled up Erin’s comm number along with the requisite encryption key. 

Kara broke the silence between then, “Vas, you do realise that if the Normandy didn’t make it out-”

“She made it.”

“But if she didn’t-” The way Kara’s voice cracked on the word ‘if’ told Vasquez that the word–that the very  _ idea  _ of the Normandy not making out–hurt her to consider.

“She made it out.” Vasquez couldn’t keep the steel out of their voice. “She made it.”

The Normandy had to have made it out safe, because if she didn't it meant that Erin was dead and that wasn't an idea Vasquez was willing to entertain. They had already lost Vanessa. They couldn't lose Erin.

Kara let out a breath. "Okay. Well, Konex is ready. How about you?"

“Almost. Just one last thing to take care of before we start,” they replied.

“Yeah?”

Instead of answering her, Vasquez stood up and walked the few short steps to the crew bay. They stopped in front of Ushae.

“Look out,” they warned. 

They waited for the Maiden to duck her head before reaching up and opening the bulkhead. They pulled out an armful of breather masks.

“Here.” Vasquez started handing them out. “Put them on, but don’t engage the face shield unless something goes wrong.”

“What are you anticipating, Lieutenant?” Lady Vasir asked.

“Potential complete loss of power,” Vasquez said. “Konex is running on auxiliary power. If it goes out, the limited life support that the Kodiak currently has will go out with it. Should that happen, the masks will be a stopgap so that you and the children can keep breathing while Kara and I work to get things working again.”

Lady Vasir looked alarmed. “Do you actually think that will happen?”

Vasquez shrugged. “I dunno, but I’d rather not chance it.”

Taking chances in space was a great way to get killed. Vasquez had already taken a big risk by taking on the mission in the first place, and Lieutenant Kurin had paid the price. They weren’t going to let anyone else die, not if they could help it.

Lady Vasir nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Yeah.” Vasquez returned the nod. “Let’s.”

They waited until everyone had the masks on, then made their way back to the front where they found Kara putting on her helmet. They sat down and grabbed their own. 

“How long can your hardsuit last?” Vasquez asked quietly.

“An hour. Yours?”

Vasquez engaged the seals between the helmet and their hardsuit. “Bout the same,” they admitted. “Of course, if I breathe slow enough, I might be able to stretch it an extra ten minutes.”

“How long do the breather masks last?” Kara asked.

Vasquez fought back the urge to wince at the question. “If they don’t panic, about the same amount of time,” they muttered. 

“And if they do?” They could practically hear the raised eyebrow on Kara’s face.

“Probably half of that, depending on how badly they all panic,” they said.

“Wonderful.” Kara exhaled. “And we’ve only got one shot at this.”

“Yup,” Vasquez said, popping the p. 

“Well, ready when you are, Vas. Let’s hope this works.” Or we’re fucked, went unsaid.

Vasquez’s omni-tool lit up. “Konex?”

_ “Yes, Lieutenant?” _

“Establish the connection,” they ordered.

_ “At once. Standby, establishing connection.”  _ Vasquez closed their eyes as the soft hiss of static filled the cockpit. Then,  _ “Connection established.” _

Vasquez raised their omni-tool to their mouth. “Erin?” They licked their lips. “Erin, are you there? Can you hear me?”

-

Erin felt like the cursor blinking away on the datapad was both mocking her and driving a knife further into her heart. She had written and erased the same line several times over the last hour and she was no closer to getting her article finished than she had been when she first sat down. Even with the looming deadline over her head, she couldn’t bring herself to care, though.

She knew that these stories needed to be written and filed, but for the first time in Erin’s life, she didn’t want to do either. Even though she knew that the Asari homeworld was lost, writing about its fall felt like admission of defeat. Filing that story and seeing it published would make Thessia’s fall real. Would make Vasquez’s death real.

Erin wasn’t ready to do that.

She wasn’t ready to admit that they were gone, couldn’t admit that they were gone. A large part of her insisted that Vasquez wasn’t really gone because there wasn’t a body. But then again, that didn’t mean much during war. The way the war was going meant that missing-in-action was becoming increasingly synonymous with killed-in-action. 

A mug plonked itself to the left of Erin. “Credit chit for your thoughts?” 

Erin startled at the sound of Maggie’s voice. “Oh, Dr. Sawyer, Maggie! I, I didn’t see you there,” she said. “Sorry.”

Maggie shrugged. “It’s fine. You seemed pretty focused. What’d that poor datapad do to you, anyway?” She motioned to it. “The look you’ve been giving it for the past little while would kill lesser beings.”

Erin’s lips twitched into a smile that faded almost as quickly as it arrived. “It’s done nothing. Or rather, I’ve done nothing,” she admitted. “I think I’ve written and rewritten the same line like twelve times now. Nothing’s sticking.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. “The famous Erin King, at a loss for words? Now there’s something you don’t hear everyday.”

“Ha,” Erin scoffed. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to find the right words to describe that the person you loved, love, is dead. It’s even harder to write about it and publish it.”

She did her best to keep her voice neutral, but the brief look of pain that flashed across Maggie’s face told Erin that she hadn’t succeeded.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “That, that was unprofessional of me. I’m just…” she trailed off.

“Angry?” Maggie guessed. “I get that. I really do.”

“It feels so stupid, being angry,” Erin said. 

“Yeah? How so?” Maggie sounded curious.

Erin exhaled harshly. “Because I’m angry at Vasquez,” she confessed. “How twisted is that? They’re…”

Missing.

Gone.

Dead. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say any of those things because saying them aloud would make them real. Instead, she continued with, “They’re not here and the fact that they’re not here makes me so angry.”

Maggie let out a small half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, I understand that sentiment too.”

She probably truly did understand, now that Erin thought about it. If the reports from three years ago were to be believed, Alex had died when the first iteration of the Normandy had been destroyed. The way Maggie stared at the Memorial Wall when she thought no one else was watching and the way her lips thinned whenever Alex made a joke about having already died once–it all told Erin that Maggie knew the anger she was feeling.

Erin motioned to the datapad. “I’ve been trying to write my article but all I can think about is Vasquez and the what ifs. You know, what if they had stayed? If they hadn’t volunteered? If…”

If Maggie had just kept her mouth shut and not begged Alex to send someone down. Logically, Erin knew that it was unfair and selfish of her to blame Maggie in any capacity. Her voice might have been the deciding factor in Alex allowing Vasquez to return to Thessia with Kara and Lieutenant Kurin in tow, but Erin knew her partner well enough by now to know that they likely would have gone down with or without Alex’s permission. It was knowledge that did little to salve the grief and anger she felt.

“I asked myself the same things for months after Alex died,” Maggie said. “What if she had evacuated with the rest of us? What if she hadn’t gone back for Nia? What if the Alliance had arrived sooner?”

“And what were the answers?” Erin asked.

Maggie shook her head. “There weren’t any,” she said. “I drove myself mad with the what ifs, to the point where I got the brilliant idea to retrieve Alex’s body and turn it over Cerberus.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot up. “You…”

“Yup,” Maggie said. “Lex Luthor said he had a way to bring her back and I took the chance. I roped Lucy into helping me get Alex’s body back from the Collectors, although she didn’t need a lot of convincing because she loves Alex as much as I do and she was hurting just as much as I was.”

“Why?” Erin asked. “I mean, you had to have known what Cerberus had done over the years–”

“Oh, I knew.” Maggie nodded. “But I had also just helped kill the woman who was like a mother to me, months earlier. I don’t come from a big family, Erin. All I had was Alex, Lucy, my tia, and her bondmate. I had already lost one of them. I wasn’t ready to lose anyone else. So when Lex made his offer, I jumped for it because I couldn’t lose anyone else.”

“Is this your really roundabout way of saying that I need to get over what’s happened and accept that Vasquez is dead?” Erin asked. This time, she didn’t bother to hide the ice in her voice. 

“No. This is me telling you to stop dwelling on the what ifs, otherwise you’re just going to drive yourself insane and do something that’ll wind up hurting everyone around you,” Maggie said calmly. 

“You and Lucy got Alex back in the end,” Erin pointed out.

“Yeah, we did,” Maggie conceded. “But now she’s up in her quarters doing the exact same thing you are: mulling over the what ifs, all because there was one big what if that I couldn’t drop.”

“And what was that what if?”

“What if Vasquez could do the impossible? What if they could get to my tia and the kids while we rescued the Armali matriarchs?” Maggie’s smile was sad. “I wasn’t willing to leave Thessia with those questions in my head and Alex knew that. And now, Kara, Vasquez, my tia, and the kids she was looking after are all dead because of that.”

Erin softened. “Maggie, that’s not–” She found herself cut off by her omni-tool lighting up. 

_ “Erin? Erin–you there? Can you–me?” _

Erin and Maggie both froze at the sound of Vasquez’s voice coming from her omni-tool.

Erin raised her hand. “Vasquez?” She did her best to keep her voice calm, but she couldn’t stop it from shaking.

_ “–hear you. Did you–safe?” _

Erin glanced up at the ceiling. “Brainy, can you clean this up?” she asked.

_ “Yes. Standby, the signal is weak.” _ It only took Brainy a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Erin.  _ “I have done what I can.” _

_ “Did you make it through the relay safely?”  _ Vasquez’s voice came through, clearer now.  _ “Erin? Erin are you still there?” _

“I’m still here,” she reassured them. “I’m here. We made it safely.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Erin saw Maggie mouth ‘verify for time.’ 

Erin nodded even as her stomach flipped. She wanted to believe that this was Vasquez on the other end, but she had to be sure. They all did. 

“Vas, did you find any FBA couplings?” she asked. 

For anybody else, it was such a nonsensical thing to say. Erin didn’t miss the confused looks several crew members threw her way. She ignored them. If it was really Vasquez on the other end, then they would know just what to say.

There was a confused silence on the other end. Then,  _ “No. I found puppies.” _

Erin let out a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding and flashed a thumbs up to Maggie. She readied herself to continue the nonsensical conversation, but paused when she heard boots against the deck. A glance over her shoulder revealed that Alex Danvers had arrived.

“Is that Vasquez on the line?” Alex demanded. 

Erin nodded. “Yes, Commander. I’ve confirmed their identity as well.”

Alex leaned forward and braced her hands against the table. “Vasquez, it’s Alex. Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to evac the system with the fleet.”

_ “Sorry, Commander,”  _ they apologised.  _ “We had to alter our course and overshoot the fleet due to a last minute intercept attempt by the Reapers.” _

“And you didn’t think to notify us ahead of time?” Alex asked sharply.

_ “We didn’t have time to, Commander. We jumped as soon as we broke through Thessia’s atmosphere.” _

The exhale that left Alex’s mouth was harsh. “Are you still in the Parnitha system?”

_ “Negative, Commander. We managed a second jump.” _

A shocked murmur broke out through the crowd on the crew deck at Vasquez’s declaration. Erin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She didn’t know that Kodiaks were capable of something like that.

“You double jumped? In a Kodiak?” Alex sounded stunned. 

_ “We had help. Kara installed a...program of sorts. It made the necessary adjustments so that we could.” _

“Uh huh.” The expression on Alex’s face made it clear to Erin that the Commander noticed something between the lines of what Vasquez had said. “Where did you end up?”

_ “Stellar navigation puts us in the Boltzmann system.” _

Erin wasn’t sure she had heard them correctly. 

“Stellar navigation?” Alex asked.

_ “Our main systems are currently offline.” _

Erin’s stomach dropped.

“Then get them back online!”

_ “We...can’t.”  _ Vasquez sounded sheepish. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Alex demanded. “You know that shuttle like the back of your hand and you expect me to believe that you can’t get her up and running again?”

_ “The Kodiak’s systems initiated an emergency shut down because the double jump put too much strain on it,”  _ they explained.  _ “We can’t do anything until it comes back online itself.” _

“How long will that take?” she asked.

_ “Unknown.” _

Alex slammed her fist on the table, making Erin jolt. “Dammit Lieutenant, give me an estimate!”

Vasquez cleared their throat. Erin pictured them licking their lips.  _ “Well, given that basic life support is still running and that we were able to tap into something called the hyperstream with our limited power functions, I’d say not more than 6 hours.” _

Alex tightened her grip on the table. Erin swore she could hear the metal groan under her grip.

“Fine,” Alex ultimately said. “Now, you said you were in Boltzmann. How did you confirm?”

_ “We spotted Cassius Orais and crossed referenced with star charts held by one of Lady Vasir’s wards in order to confirm our findings,”  _ Vasquez reported.

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Cassius Orais?” she asked.

Erin spoke up, “It’s a constellation that’s visible from anywhere on Bekenstein. But to see it in space, you have to be near or above the planet.”

The thought that Vasquez was so close to her home planet made Erin’s heart pound.

_ “Yeah, what Erin said. By the way, Erin, it’s as amazing as you said it was.” _

Erin smiled at their words. 

“You mentioned the star charts you used came from Lady Vasir’s wards,” Alex interrupted. “Does that mean that she and the children are with you?”

_ “Affirmative, Commander. All are safe and accounted for.”  _ A beat.  _ “Lieutenant Kurin did not return with us, though. She stayed behind to cover our retreat.” _

Alex closed her eyes, as if the news pained her to hear. It probably did, Erin realised. The first human Spectre and Alliance soldier seemed to take every death suffered under her command as a personal wound. It was something that made her seem human, instead of some mythical being that the news stories and various holo-vids made her out to be.

“Understood. I’ll inform Asari High Command. In the meantime, see if there’s a way to get the Kodiak back online faster.”

_ “Roger that. Heads up that in the meantime, we’ll have to disconnect, and we likely won’t be able to reopen this comm line until we rejoin the fleet.” _

Erin felt herself blanch at that. She had just gotten Vasquez back. For them to go radio silent again so soon without any way for her or the Normandy to confirm that they were safe, that they were still alive? That filled her with dread. So much could go wrong in six hours, after all, especially in space.

“Noted.” Alex didn’t seem remarkably enthused by the news, a sentiment that Erin shared. “And Vasquez?”

_ “Yes, Commander?” _

“Don’t you dare be late, you understand me? You get the Kodiak back online and you haul ass back to the fleet, clear?

_ “Crystal clear, Commander,”  _ they confirmed. _ “We’ll do our best to see you shortly. Kodiak out.” _

Erin’s omni-tool shut off. 

The crew immediately erupted into murmurs. They were all cut off moments later by Lucy’s sharp, shrill whistle. 

“Shut it, or you’ll all be doing PT with me down in the cargo bay until we reach the Citadel!” she barked. 

The few murmurs that remained quickly went silent at the threat. Lucy’s PT sessions were intense to say the least.

Alex gave Lucy a grateful look before clearing her throat to draw everyone’s attention back to her. “Alright,” she started, “here are the new orders: Brainy, Nia, contact Fleet Control. Let them know to be on the lookout for an additional Alliance craft after our arrival. Eve, get Asari High Command on the line. I need to update them about Lady Vasir. Maggie, work with Dr. Hamilton to get the medbay prepped; we don’t know what their status is going to be upon arrival and I’d rather be prepared for everything just in case. The rest of you, get back to your stations.”

There was a brief pause as everyone remained where they were standing. 

“What the hell are you all standing around for?” It took everything Erin had to not jump at the sharpness in Lucy’s voice. “Danvers has given you your orders, now move!”

The mess hall emptied faster than Erin thought possible. She moved to get up herself, but was stopped by Alex’s hand on her shoulder and a quiet, “Erin.”

Erin looked up at her. Now, without the crew around them, Alex looked so much more tired than before.

“Yes, Commander?”

“I want you in the War Room.” 

Erin blinked. “I was under the impression that the War Room was a restricted area,” she said slowly.

“Oh, it is,” Alex said. “But I need you in there, that way you can hook your omni-tool into our comms system and hopefully make it a little easier in case Vasquez tries to contact us again. I’ve already sent the access code to your omni-tool and informed Westmoreland and Campbell to let you through.”

“Thank you, but…” Erin trailed off.

“But?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

“Why are you really giving me access to the War Room? It can’t just be because you want me monitoring my omni-tool. I could do that from anywhere on the ship and have Brainy help me as needed,” Erin pointed out.

“That’s true, you could,” Alex conceded. “But I’ve been where you are and it sucks, waiting, not being able to really do anything to fix the situation because it’s out of your hands.”

“So it’s a pity assignment?” Erin had to fight to keep her voice even because even though Alex was likely as wrecked as she was, Erin doubted that Alex would welcome any form of snark at the minute.

“If that’s how you want to interpret it, sure.” Alex shrugged. “At the end of the day, though, I really do need you up there because you’re our only avenue of communication with Vasquez and the War Room possesses technology that can increase your omni-tool’s range.”

Erin mulled it over. Alex wasn’t explicitly ordering her to the War Room. There was still a very clear opportunity to say no and stay on the crew deck, but she already knew that if she did, she wouldn’t be getting anything done. Alex was offering her a distraction that had the added benefit of making her feel useful in the meantime. 

“Alright, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” she finally said.

“Thanks.” Alex squeezed her shoulder. 

Erin tipped her head. “Of course.” 

-

Vasquez exhaled and leaned back. Silence filled the Kodiak once more.

“So, now what?” Kara asked.

“Well,” Vasquez drew out, “we do what Alex told us to do and try to get the Kodiak back online as fast as we can.”

“I take it that means you’ve got a plan?” Vasquez could hear the raised eyebrow Kara was sending their way.

“Kind of?” Vasquez glanced back to the crew bay. “Any of you interested in aerospace engineering?”

More silence, this time accompanied by wide-eyed stares from a dozen Maidens.

“Are you being serious right now?” Kara hissed.

Vasquez shot her annoyed look. “There’s fifteen people in the shuttle. I can’t be the only engineer in here,” they argued.

“They’re children!” Kara protested.

“Children who are older than the both of us combined!” they fired back.

The two of them were cut off by the sound of a throat clearing. As one, Vasquez and Kara both turned back to the crew bay to see two of the Maidens standing. 

Vasquez raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “Yes?” they asked.

The shorter one coughed. “I started an internship with the Serrice Council a year ago,” she said.

Vasquez’s eyebrow rose higher. That was an impressive bit of information, given that the Maiden in front of them didn’t look to be any older than 100 years old. Still, they weren’t quite sure what to do with that revelation since the Serrice Council was known for its bioamps and omni-tools, not its ships. Vasquez didn’t even know if the Serrice Council  _ made _ ships.

“The Kodiak is pretty different from a bioamp or an omni-tool, kid,” Vasquez said, doing their best to not sound patronising. It was likely that the girl already knew that, but they still had to drive the point home. While they needed an extra set of hands to try and get the Kodiak up and running again, Vasquez didn’t want to put the Kodiak at an even greater risk by having someone who didn’t have the required skill set work on her. 

“I know that.” The girl sounded annoyed. “If you’d waited for me to continue, then you’d know that I was part of their R&D division and worked on an experimental skycar engine before the war started.” Her chest puffed up. “I was also the apprentice to the chief aero-mechanic for the Vasir estate’s X3M skycar fleet.”

The taller Maiden nudged the shorter one. “Elura, don’t be so rude!” she scolded.

“The Lieutenant called me a kid, Amul! I’m not a child!” Elura fired back hotly. “I’m 76!”

“And you’re acting half that age!” Amul retorted.

Vasquez could sense a fight between the two girls. From the exasperated expressions shared by the remaining Maidens and the fond but tired look on Lady Vasir’s face, this was a common argument for Elura and Amul. Common though it might have been, the last thing Vasquez needed right now was for one to erupt.

“Alright!” they cut in before things could really kick off. “Elura, I can work with that. Amul, was it?” Vasquez waited for a confirmatory nod before continuing, “Amul, what’s your background?”

“I have a masters in aerospace engineering,” Amul said. “I was supposed to start my doctoral program at the University of Irira on Lymetis, but the war started before I could.”

“You have any practical, hands-on experience?” Vasquez asked.

“Ten years with the Dassus Council. I was assigned to their shipyards in Hypatia and helped with the retrofits for the Nefrane back in 2184.”

Neither girl had the perfect skillset, but Vasquez would take what they could get. Both at least had experience working on spacecraft.

“Great.” Vasquez stood up and walked towards the back. They brought their omni-tool up and entered the access codes needed to unlock the bulkhead panel. There was a quiet hiss as the panel unsealed itself. Vasquez gripped the edges and, with a grunt, pried it away to reveal a mess of wires and circuitry.

“...is that a Kassa Fabrication drive converter plugged into a Batarian shield matrix?” Elura sounded stunned.

“Yup.” Vasquez let the panel hit the floor with a thunk. “There’s a Geth transistor as well. Helps balance the load when special systems are engaged.”

Amul crouched down next to them to examine the hardware. “How in the Goddess’ name…” She looked up to Vasquez. “Is this something that the Alliance normally does?”

“Not really, no. This particular Kodiak is experimental and I just came and added some stuff on my own time,” Vasquez admitted. 

Amul looked back at the exposed hardware. “So what exactly do you need us to do?” she asked.

Vasquez glanced at Amul and Elura. “I need you two to flip the converter and get it to draw from the shield matrix.”

Amul’s head snapped back to Vasquez. “Wait, you  _ want _ it to draw from the shield matrix?”

“Batarian shield matrixes are known for being power hungry,” Vasquez said. “If the driver converter pulls from it, it’ll lessen the load that the transistor has to balance–”

“Which will ultimately increase the available energy pool for the drive core,” Elura finished. 

Vasquez nodded. “Exactly. You think the two of you can make it happen?”

Amul and Elura exchanged looks then, to Vasquez’s relief, nodded the affirmative.

“Leave it to us, Lieutenant,” Elura said.

“Awesome.” They pulled their omni-tool up again. “Konex?”

_ “Yes, Lieutenant?” _

“Can you assist Elura and Amul whilst me and Kara work on the front systems?” Vasquez asked.

_ “Certainly. I will move my processing power to the required areas shortly.” _

Vasquez closed their omni-tool. “Once Konex has moved back here, the two of you can start working.”

“Got it.” “Understood.” 

Vasquez took a step back and made their way back to the cockpit. They collapsed into their seat with a sigh.

“Vas?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we seriously having two kids help us fix the Kodiak?” 

“Yup,” they replied. “Gives them something to do, helps the rest of them not feel nearly as helpless as before and buys you and me some time to talk.”

“About what?” Kara sounded wary. 

Vasquez let their head loll back. “Well,” they drawled, “you plugged an AI into my shuttle and back on Thessia you were shooting lasers from your eyes.”

Kara said nothing.

Vasquez sighed. “Look, LC, I don’t really care that you’re an alien.” They held a hand up just as a startled squawk cracked past Kara’s throat. “Yes, I know you’re an alien. I’ve known for a while, and I’m pretty sure everyone else back on the Normandy knows too. It’s probably the worst kept secret on the ship.” 

Kara chuckled softly. “Ha, you got me there.” 

Vasquez turned their head to watch her settle back in her seat. They said nothing, instead waiting for Kara to make the next move.

The silence grew increasingly thick between them until Kara finally said, “I’m from a planet called Krypton.”

Her voice, quiet as it was, carried a note of pain that made Vasquez’s heart lurch even as they frowned.

“I've never heard of it,” they said. 

In the simulated starlight, Vasquez could see the sad smile that crossed Kara's lips. “No one has. I doubt anyone ever will.”

Vasquez's frown deepened. “Why? Is your planet in the Outer Rim or something?”

Kara laughed, but it was hoarse. It made Vasquez flinch. They had never heard Kara sound like that. “I wish,” she said. “At least that way, I could visit the remains. Unfortunately, my home system is located in the Andromeda Galaxy. Or, was, I guess. It doesn't exist anymore, even though your stellar maps say that it does. They just haven't caught up and likely won't for some time.”

Vasquez did the rough math in their head with the assumption that Kara's home planet was at the edge of Andromeda. 

“So, chronologically speaking, you're what, six hundred and some change?” they asked. 

“No.” Kara shook her head. “It took me 24 years to get here.”

That was impossible. Even with FTL, a trip like the one Kara made would have taken at least six hundred years. 

Vasquez's disbelief must have shown on their face, because Kara chuckled again, lighter this time. 

“My people had access to forms of travel that were more advanced than what you have here.” She sounded wistful. “It still would have taken me time, but, well. My pod and that of my cousin's ended up caught in separate worm holes which wound up significantly cutting down our journeys.” 

“To 24 years?” Vasquez raised an eyebrow. 

Kara shook her head. “ _ Mine _ took 24 years. My cousin's, by my estimations, his journey only took two.” 

“Why such a difference?” 

“Because his wormhole actually led somewhere. Mine...mine led to the Phantom Zone.” 

“The Phantom Zone?” Vasquez asked, curious. The name alone sounded ominous. 

Kara’s expression grew distant. “It’s...a prison, of sorts. A place where time doesn't move. Where there's no light, no sound. All you have are your thoughts and your memories.” Her smile turned bitter. “I watched my planet explode for 24 years straight. Watched my mother die over and over again and I could do nothing to make it stop.”

“So Konex is…” 

“Konex piloted my shuttle. Or at least, he tried to. There wasn't much he could do when we hit the Phantom Zone; not even AI are immune to its effects.” The smile stayed bitter. “He's all I have left of Krypton.”

“But you have a cousin?” It came out more as a question than Vasquez would have liked. 

“I do,” Kara conceded. “But I, I am the last daughter of Krypton. Kal was a baby when we fled. He was raised on Earth. He doesn't know anything of our customs or traditions or even our history outside of what his father programmed into his pod. I do. Kryptonian culture is more than just a data node entry to me because I was raised in it. I lived it. He hasn't. He tries to understand, Rao knows that he tries, but he never will. Not like me.”

Vasquez didn't know what to say to that. Eventually, they settled on a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Those two words sounded so pathetic to Vasquez’s ears, but they didn’t have anything better to offer. They might have known grief, but losing a wife was different than losing your entire planet and species. Earth had fallen to the Reapers, yes, but there were still humans across the galaxy fighting with everything they had to take their planet back. 

“It’s fine.” Kara shrugged. “I’ve…I’ve made my peace with it.”

Even if Vasquez hadn’t witnessed the panic attack Kara had suffered from earlier, the pain that was visible in her eyes was evidence enough that the Kryptonian was lying. Still, Vasquez decided not to call Kara out on it. They wouldn’t, not when the last thing they had grabbed during the evacuation from Earth had been a datapad with Vanessa’s final call to them. 

“So, the panic you had earlier,” they started, “was that because us being out here reminded you of the Phantom Zone?”

“Yeah.” A beat. “You know how silence is the last thing you want to hear in space?”

“Of course.” At its best, silence in space was a warning that you were in danger and running out of time. At its worst, it meant that you were already dead or fast approaching that point. 

“That’s all there is in the Phantom Zone, silence.” Kara sighed. “And silence can be its own form of torture, especially when you’re trapped in a place with only your thoughts and memories for comfort. It’s why my people considered the Phantom Zone to be a prison of last resort.”

That sounded like hell.

“It was fine at first. I thought it was a relief from hearing Krypton explode behind me but after a while…” Vasquez didn’t miss the way that Kara’s hands flexed. “After a while, that silence bled into the memories. I stopped being able to hear Krypton. All I could do after that was watch helplessly. I couldn’t move an inch while I was in the Phantom Zone, but when Konex and I finally got out, my ears ached, which makes me think that I was straining to try and hear Krypton. To try and hear my mother.”

“Our rapid evac from Thessia–” Vasquez started.

“Reminded me a bit of my escape from Krypton. The chaos at least.” The bitter smile turned wry. “At least the planet didn’t explode behind us as we left. Our current situation, though? That leaves something to be desired.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Vasquez agreed.

“Using the holographics windows to display the stars was a good touch. Smart too,” Kara said. 

“I’m just glad it helped.” 

Silence settled between them once more, but it was easier this time. It wasn’t a perfect silence. Vasquez could hear the banter being exchanged between Amul and Elura as they worked. The sound of an omni-plasma torch going off every so often was almost soothing. 

Kara eventually broke the silence. “Is there actually anything we have to do up here to get the Kodiak running again?” she asked.

“Not really, no,” Vasquez admitted. 

“Vas…”

“Yeah, LC?”

“Tell me you’re not having those kids do all the work.” 

A chill broke out across the back of Vasquez’s neck even as they shot an easy grin Kara’s way. “Of course not,” they said. “I’ve had a VI reformatting the Kodiak’s base operating system since I came back up here.”

Kara blinked. “What will reformatting the system do for us?”

“Well, assuming that Amul and Elura can get the converter to flip so that it’ll draw power from the shield matrix, I’ll be able to redirect the excess power to the drive core. Hopefully that’ll be the boost that the drive core needs to get back online so we can start using main power instead of auxiliary and get back to the Normandy.” 

Vasquez glanced over their shoulder when they heard the sound of boots approaching from the crew bay and saw Amul emerge from the back. 

“You and Elura done already?” they asked.

“Yeah.” Amul nodded. “The converter will draw from the shield matrix now. We also made adjustments to the FTL manifold. Should make the initial power draw more efficient.”

Vasquez was impressed. “That was smart, I didn’t even think about that,” they said. “Now let’s see if all of these changes work in our favour.”

“And if they don’t?” Kara asked.

“Then we’re back to square one.” Vasquez’s omni-tool lit up in tandem with the pulling up the Kodiak’s UI. “Konex, are you there?”

_ “I am, Lieutenant.” _

“Prepare for a system power on,” they said.

_ “Affirmative. Standing by.” _

Vasquez’s hands moved as they input the necessary codes to activate the changes to the system they had made whilst Amul and Elura were working. Once it was all done, they took a deep breath, then entered the final series of codes that would initiate the changes.

Nothing happened.

“Vas?” Kara asked cautiously.

Vasquez closed their eyes and tilted their head back. “Give her a minute. The system that powers the drive core has to do a cycle,” they said.

It couldn’t have taken more than 30 seconds at the most, but the wait still felt like an eternity. Then, the telltale hum of the drive core turning over reached their ears. A small shudder through the Kodiak followed the sound.

Vasquez’s eyes flew open just in time for them to watch the Kodiak light up. 

_ “Systems have been restored,”  _ Konex reported. 

“Hell yeah!” Kara whooped.

Cheers erupted from the back as Vasquez sat up straight. They looked over their shoulder to Amul.

“You and Elura did a great job,” they said, before turning their attention back to their UI. “Now go tell everyone to buckle up and prepare for an FTL jump.”

Amul nodded. “Understood, Lieutenant.” 

She turned on her heel and made her back to the crew bay.

“Kara, you have the Fleet’s coordinates?” Vasquez asked.

“Yeah, I do.” Out of the corner of their eye, they saw her swipe through various holographic screens until she came to the navigation one. “Konex, can you verify the coordinates I’m putting in and make sure they’re for the space just outside the Widow cluster?”

_ “Yes, Lady Kara. Please standby.”  _ A pause.  _ “Coordinates have been verified. Destination: 336.95 by 755.042. Shall I prepare a course?” _

“Vasquez is the pilot of this vessel, so it’s up to them,” Kara said.

_ “Understood, Lady Kara. Lieutenant, shall I prepare a course?” _

“Do it,” Vasquez ordered. 

_ “Acknowledged. Prepare for jump.” _

Vasquez braced themself as the Kodiak went silent around them. Time seemed to freeze around them as blue wisps crawled across the holographic window display. Then, the Kodiak shot out of the Boltzmann system.

-

_ “Leaving FTL in 3, 2, 1,”  _ Konex announced.

Vasquez jolted forward with a grunt as the Kodiak dropped out of FTL. 

_ “Transferring control back to you, Lieutenant.” _

“Roger that.” 

Vasquez brought up the Kodiak’s control displays. Seconds later, the Fleet came into view, causing them to let out a breath they hadn’t realised that they had been holding.

“Rao,” Kara breathed. “That’s a beautiful sight.”

“It definitely is, LC,” Vasquez agreed. 

The sight of Alliance, Turian, Asari, Quarian, Salarian, and Geth vessels all in the same proximity was something that Vasquez never thought they would see in their lifetime. 

The Kodiak’s communications channel crackled to life.  _ “Alliance Fleet Control to unidentified vessel: identify yourself, over.” _

Vasquez moved their hand to the display so that they could respond, “Fleet Control, this is Kodiak SR2. Pilot on roster is Lieutenant Vasquez. Requesting permission to join the fleet, over.”

There was a pause. 

Vasquez did their best not to fidget whilst they waited.

Before Vasquez could get too nervous, the communication display crackled back to life.  _ “Identity confirmed. Permission granted. Welcome home, Kodiak.” _

“Thanks, Fleet Control, it’s good to be home,” Vasquez said.

The communications channel clicked off.

“Alright,” they announced, “final stretch. We’re almost there. LC, do me a favour and open hailing frequencies.”

“On it.”

With every ship that they flew past, Vasquez couldn’t help but be reminded of the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel from a few years prior. Each ship, damaged as some were, was a sign that people were still alive and had survived the latest round of horror. It was enough to make Vasquez relax ever so slightly. Somewhere, amongst all of these ships, was the Normandy. The Normandy had Erin and Erin was home.

_ “Normandy control to Kodiak, can you read us?”  _ Vasquez startled at the sound of Nia’s voice.  _ “Repeat: Normandy control to Kodiak, can you read us?” _

Vasquez cleared their throat. “We read you, Normandy,” they said.

_ “It’s about damn time!” _ Vasquez bit back a laugh at the indignation in their fellow pilot’s voice.  _ “You’re fucking late, asshole!” _

“Sorry bout that,” they drawled. “We had to take the long way home.”

_ “Uh huh.” _ Nia sounded less than impressed by their response.  _ “What’s your ETA?” _

Vasquez looked over their display readings. “ETA is five minutes,” they reported.

_ “Roger that. We’ll have the cargo bay ready for your arrival. You gonna need a medical team on standby?” _

“Better safe than sorry,” Vasquez said. 

Even though everyone on the Kodiak seemed fine physically, Vasquez wasn’t about to leave anything to chance. At a minimum, the Asari children would be hungry. With a medical team on deck, there would at least be electrolyte-enhanced jellos on hand as soon as the Kodiak landed.

_ “Copy that. I’ll let Anderson know.” _

“Understood, over.”

_ “And Vasquez?” _

“Yeah, Nia?”

_ “I’m glad you made it back,”  _ she said.

“Thanks, Nia.”

Once the channel went quiet, Vasquez sighed and leaned back. 

“This is gonna be the longest five minute of our lives, isn’t it?” Kara asked.

“Yup.”

-

As a reporter, Erin knew the value of patience. That didn’t stop her from watching the seconds tick down on the cargo bay’s shock clock, nor did it stop her from pacing. She was doing her best to keep her movements confined to the space by Vasquez’s workstation so as to not get in the way of the rest of the crew in the cargo bay, who themselves were moving in a controlled chaos that only Alliance personnel were capable of. 

Above the din, she heard Mon-el shout, “Tsung! I told you to get the landing area clear! Quit standing around and get your squad moving!”

The sound of a dozen boots pounding against the cargo deck followed shortly after.

Erin turned and continued to pace.

“You know, war or not, if you wear a groove into the deck, the Alliance will charge you to repair it.”

She paused at the sound of Maggie’s voice and glanced behind her to see the doctor leaning against the pillar. 

“Excuse me?” Erin asked.

Maggie motioned towards the ground where Erin had been pacing. 

“Oh.” Erin felt her cheeks turning pink. “Sorry. I’m just…” she trailed off.

“Nervous?” Maggie guessed. 

“That obvious?”

“Just a bit, yeah,” Maggie said. “Everyone else is too busy preparing right now to really, though.”

“There’s a part of me that feels like I should be helping with that,” Erin said, “but my skill set isn’t really suited for any of the work that’s being done. So, I’m just trying not to get in anyone’s way by standing near Vasquez’s workstation and pacing.”

Maggie shrugged. “It’s better than standing around doing nothing at all,” she said.

“True.” Erin sighed and braced her hands against the console that Vasquez was often on. “You know, I’m not even really nervous about them coming back? I’m more nervous about what comes after.”

“I get that.”

Erin glanced at her. “Do you really or are you just saying that to try and make me feel better?” she asked.

“I really do get it.” Maggie pushed off the pillar and walked over to stand next to Erin. “I didn’t start off as a soldier. I was a scientist, a civilian. Up until Alex found me trapped in a dig site in Therum, the most combat I’d ever had to deal with was chasing off a handful of mercs. Joining up with Alex and Lucy threw me into the deep end.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Erin saw Maggie’s gaze grow distant. 

“I still remember the first time I really saw Alex badly injured. She had been on a mission on Tuntau with James and Lucy to retrieve some armour that belonged to James’ father. It turned out that the guy who’d stolen the armour had rigged the base with a deadman’s switch and Alex ended up getting caught up in the blast.”

“Holy shit.”

“She got her barrier up in time but...but she still looked like a mess when James and Lucy got her back up on the Normandy. I remember seeing her, thinking that there was no way she was gonna make it. But she did because Dr. Hamilton is great at what she does and when I went in to see Alex, she was just, so blasé. She was sitting up and talking to Lucy about how annoyed she was that neither she, Lucy, or James had noticed the charges set around the base. She wasn’t even concerned that she’d just been blown up!”

“But you were,” Erin said.

Maggie nodded. “Of course. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about the next mission, what if it happened again and Alex didn’t get her barrier up in time? Or what if Nia wasn’t able to get the Normandy back down fast enough?”

“So many what ifs,” Erin mused. “You ever tell Alex any of them?”

“At first, no,” Maggie said. “I kept it all to myself because I was, am, a civilian and figured the soldiers on the ship had better things to do.”

“What changed?”

“Lucy,” she said simply. “Or more specifically, Lucy figured out that something was going on and confronted me about it.”

“And she got it?” Erin raised an eyebrow. “I thought Lucy was career military like Alex.”

“She is. But her sister isn’t. As much as it pained her to do it, she looked at the whole situation from Lois’ point of view,” Maggie said. “Then she got it and she grabbed Alex and we finally talked it out.”

“Did it get better?” Erin asked. “Does it ever get better?”

“Not really, no.” 

Erin looked at Maggie and saw that the woman had a sad smile on her face. 

“You’re always going to have that worry. It just comes with the territory of dating someone who’s Alliance military,” Maggie said bluntly. “But the sooner you understand that, the sooner you talk to them about it, the less chance it has to overwhelm you.”

Erin was silent for the longest time as she mulled over Maggie’s words. Eventually, she asked, “How long did it take you to understand that?”

She didn’t miss the way Maggie’s hands flexed at the question. 

“Too long,” Maggie murmured. “By the time that I did, Alex was dead.” She sighed. “It’s why I’m telling you all of this now, because time is always in short supply, especially during a war, and Vasquez is still alive.” 

Erin opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Brainy’s voice over the comms,  _ “Kodiak has been sighted. ETA: 10 seconds. Prepare for arrival.” _

People quickly cleared the shuttle area while Erin’s head snapped to the end of the cargo bay. There was a clunk as the Normandy’s gangplank unlatched itself and slowly lowered itself down; it was followed by the hum of the Normandy’s rear plasma guard activating in order to prevent the gathered crew from being spaced.

Erin spotted the Kodiak. She watched as it drew nearer, growing larger and larger until it finally passed through the plasma guard. It hovered in the air for a moment, then gently lowered itself down to the ground.

No one moved. Erin barely dared to breathe. 

The hatch opened. 

The first person out was an Asari child. Several more followed after her moments later, two at a time until the next person out was a human woman. From the distance she was at, Erin could see she had brown skin; by the way Maggie’s voice hitched at the sight of the woman, Erin guessed that she was Lady Vasir. A murmur swept through when Kara stepped out right after Lady Vasir had left the shuttle. Then, Vasquez appeared and walked out of the shuttle.

The cargo bay exploded into cheers. 

Erin jumped when she felt Maggie’s hand touch her shoulder. 

“C’mon!” Maggie shouted above the din. “Let’s go!”

Erin didn’t even get a chance to protest before Maggie grabbed her arm and dragged her through the crowd towards where Vasquez and the others were gathered. With the biotic doctor leading her, the crowd parted easily for the two of them. It was only after Maggie had shouldered past Winn did Erin get a clear sight of Vasquez.

Erin felt her breath hitch as she looked them over. Vasquez was obviously exhausted and appeared to be about five minutes away from passing out on their feet, but in that moment, they had never looked better to her. They were here, breathing, and still very much alive. They were  _ alive _ . 

Vasquez must have spotted her because the next thing Erin knew, Vasquez was jogging over to her. 

“Hey, Erin–”

Erin didn’t give them a chance to finish. She drew a yelp from them as she threw her arms around their shoulders. She buried her face in their neck. The smell of sweat, smoke, and eezo made her tighten her grip around them. 

Vasquez ran a hand through her hair. 

Erin felt herself start to shake at the touch. She didn’t even realise she had started crying until Vasquez’s hand came up to wipe away her tears. The feel of their fingertips brushing against her cheek made Erin cry harder. 

Everyone and everything around the two of them seemed to fade away until all Erin could hear was Vasquez whispering, “I’m right here, Erin. I’m back. I promise okay.”

Their voice was gentle. It made Erin press her face even closer to their neck, sobbing all the while.

-

Vasquez was nervous. 

They had been standing outside of Erin’s quarters for the last ten minutes because they couldn’t get the image of Erin breaking down in their arms out of their head. Just the memory of her sobs was enough to make their stomach twist with guilt. They had never meant for her to cry like that, nor had they ever meant to make her that scared. 

The doors hissed open. 

Vasquez yelped and jumped back to see Erin standing in front of them. They barely managed to keep themself from fidgeting as she raised a curious eyebrow at them. 

“Well?” she asked.

Vasquez’s brow furrowed. “Well what?”

“Are you going to come in, or are you going to keep standing out in the hallway?”

“Oh! I, uh, I’m coming in. I guess,” they said awkwardly.

“You guess?” Vasquez couldn’t tell if Erin was unimpressed or displeased by their response.

“Am I allowed to come in?” they asked.

They watched Erin soften. “Of course you are, Vas.” She held her hand out to them.

Vasquez hesitated for a moment before taking her hand. They let her lead them inside, but stayed standing even as she sat on her bed.

“What’s wrong?” Erin asked. 

“Nothing,” Vasquez replied hurriedly. “I just, I just wanted to apologise.”

Erin gave them a confused look. “Apologise? For what?”

“For scaring you. For making you cry. I didn’t mean to, I just–” Vasquez cut themself off to let out a frustrated breath. “I didn’t think. I volunteered for the mission and didn’t even give your response a second thought. I just, I don’t know, I expected you to understand because you’re on a warship.”

Vasquez ran a hand through their hair. “All I can say is that I am so sorry,” they said quietly. “I completely understand if you want to end things between us, because this definitely isn’t something you signed up for when you signed onto the Normandy and–”

Erin cut them off, “Vas, stop. Just stop.”

Vasquez’s mouth clicked shut.

“Come sit down, please?” She patted the spot next to her.

Vasquez sat down in the indicated spot. On instinct, they laced their fingers with Erin’s after they felt her hand brush against theirs.

“Vasquez, honey, you’re an idiot.” Vasquez blinked. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

“But–” Vasquez tried, only to be silenced by Erin putting a finger against their lips.

“But nothing,” Erin said in a tone that broke no argument. “It’s true, I didn’t sign up for any of this when I signed onto the Normandy, but I am now. I know what dating you in the middle of a war means.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Vasquez asked.

“Honestly, no, I’m not. But I think that’s because I’m a little bit selfish.” Vasquez’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I want us to have all the time in the universe together. I want to be able to wake up and not worry or wonder if the next mission you go on is going to be your last.”

Vasquez squeezed Erin’s hand. They wanted all of those things too.

“But I can’t,” she continued. “At least, not right now. And as much as that sucks, I can deal with it, as long you do something for me.”

“Anything,” Vasquez said without hesitation.

“Just make sure you do everything, absolutely everything that you can to make sure you come back from a mission,” she said.

That sounded easy enough.

“I promise–” they started, only to stop when they saw Erin shake her head.

“I don’t want you to promise me, Vas,” she said. “Just tell me that you will.”

Vasquez felt confused. “Why? I’m always going to come back, Erin.”

“Are you though? Can you honestly guarantee that you’ll always be able to come back, Vas?” There was nothing accusatory in her tone, just a gentle but firm question.

“I…” Vasquez finally understood what Erin was getting at. They looked away. “No, I can’t,” they muttered.

They wanted to, god knew that they did. But they couldn’t. They and Vanessa had promised each other time and time again to always come back to each other. All that promise had led to was heartbreak when Vanessa died.

They felt Erin place a hand on their cheek. 

“Then don’t make it a promise,” Erin murmured. “Just tell me that you’ll try to do everything you can to come back.”

Vasquez leaned into the touch. “I can do that,” they whispered. “I’ll try and do everything I can to come back after a mission, as long as you do the same.”

Vasquez let their eyes slip shut at the feel of Erin pressing a soft kiss against the tip of their nose.

“I will,” they heard her say.

Vasquez opened their eyes and moved their head to catch her lips with theirs. They kissed her soft and slow, savouring the way her lips felt against theirs as she kissed them back.

“Good,” they hummed against her lips. 

Vasquez felt Erin smile. It was such a welcome sensation after everything they had been through over the last 24 hours that it drew a smile to their own lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /lorakh/ - The Kryptonian equivalent of a month. Lasts 2.8 Earth months.
> 
> /Shisir/ - Kryptonian for 'damn'

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment and/or kudos below and feel free to come say hi @sandstonesunspear on tumblr.


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